My Place is at Your Side
by Erika
Summary: When ObiWan Kenobi and QuiGon Jinn fall prey to a vengeful madman who has planned and plotted his every action, will they be able to escape with their lives or will their loyalty to each other condemn them both to death?
1. Storm Front

In case you miss it in my warning below, there are a couple of things I want to say.  Recently, I've been trying to practice writing action scenes of different lengths, to see what suits me best.  Unfortunately, in this story, they're all LONG and with way too many details.  They go on and on forever.  Also, in some non-action scenes, I kinda set challenges for myself to see if I could describe things in a certain way, and those also ended up being really long with a lot of useless details.  I have a whole bunch of that kind of stuff thrown into this story and it probably has a negative effect on the flow of the writing and might get kinda of boring.  Soo…for those of you who are willing to plunge through that, I really hope you enjoy this story and I promise my next stories are less experimental!  Oh yeah, my warning definitely applies to the first part…beware of action. 

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**_Title_****:** My Place is at Your Side

**_Author_****:** Erika

**_Rating_****:** PG-13

**_Summary_****:** When Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn fall prey to a vengeful madman who has planned and plotted his every action, will they be able to escape with their lives or will their loyalty to each other condemn them both to death?

**_Time Frame_****:** Obi-Wan is 18

**_Spoilers_****:** For JA

**_Category_****:** POV, angst, action, drama, h/c, non-slash

**_Disclaimers_****:** The Star Wars universe and all of its characters belong to George Lucas, I'm only borrowing them to have a little fun and I promise to return them unharmed (well, at least mostly unharmed =0).  I'm making no money from this and this is written for entertainment purposes only.  Any characters that are not recognizable as being part of the Star Wars universe belong to me, but you guys probably figured that out, right?

**_Feedback_****:** Both positive feedback and _constructive_ criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished! (firedrake88@yahoo.com)

**_Archive_****:** Jedi Apprentice, Early Years, Wolfie's Den, JAFD, The Guardians of Peace, The Temple Library, Telly, and archives who have any of my other stories.  Anyone else who wants this, please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out. =D

**_My Website_****: **http://thesanctuary.fateback.com

**_Warning/Author's Note:_**I'm not a doctor, nor do I pretend to know a lot about medicine, physiology, or anatomy (my high school class was good, but it was pretty basic), so don't expect everything in that aspect of this story to be perfectly realistic!  Also, there are a bunch of rather long action scenes here, seeing as how I need to practice writing those, but don't worry, if you can wade through those, I promise there are lots of touching moments between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to make up for them.

**_Special Thanks To:_** My good friends Cassia and LunarBlade. =D =D =D =D

Things enclosed in  's are _italic_

Things enclosed in 's are telepathic communication through the Master/Padawan bond.

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part One: Storm Front ~

**Obi-Wan:**

"Brace yourself!" I called over my shoulder to Qui-Gon, who was meditating in the back section of the very small, very compact vessel we had been given by the Seltec Government, "We'll hit a little turbulence entering the lower atmosphere!"

          Quickly changing the vector of our approach to compensate for the changing wind speeds, I grabbed onto the control console to keep myself steady. "Hold on!" I warned just as tremors seized the ship, making everything vibrate, including my body.

          Although I knew that the vessel was being badly agitated and thrown about by this planet's exceptionally strong air turbulence, its shock absorbers had the remarkable ability of holding us relatively still.

          Carried by an unexpected vortex of strong turbulence, the shuttle abruptly lurched forward and dropped nearly a hundred feet in altitude.  For a few seconds it felt like the floor was falling out from under me, as if I was hurtling through a hole in time and space that was sucking me downward.  An unsettling twang of pain raced up my body as my stomach leapt into my throat, leaving me feeling strangely and vacantly empty.  Pain rushed to my temples and the back of my head, momentarily clouding my vision around the edges.

          The vessel added to my dizzy confusion by convulsing and rocking everything back and forth in a persistent quake.  I could hear the hollow howling of the wind as we flew against its angry rhythms, now spinning out of control.  The sound seemed to echo in time with the pounding of my head as I struggled to fight off the pain.   

          Suddenly tremors began to wrack the ship with a fury far greater than the shock absorbers should have allowed.  Everything was being jolted about with a vicious violence and even as the Force was sending sparks of apprehension through me, a keening alarm began screaming.  The irritating noise seemed to pulsate through my ears and ricochet in my mind but gritting my teeth, I determined to ignore it.

          The control panels quavered under my fingertips as I worked furiously to stabilize the ship.  I studied the visual readout that displayed the ship's surroundings and with a measure of alarm, I realized that we were caught in some sort of pocket of rapidly changing wind velocities with no smooth way to escape.

          On impulse, I activated the emergency thrusters.  Using the pressure they created against the surrounding winds, I was able to regain complete control of the ship and stop its submission to the demanding turbulence, thus stilling the shaking as well.  The stability would not last long, I knew, but it would give me enough time to study the wind patterns and determine the safest course out.

          The first thing I did was shut down the annoyingly persistent alarm.  Then I took a moment for calm, deep breathing to ease my headache, before I worried about figuring out why it had been sounding.

          When I heard footsteps against the metallic floor of the cockpit I addressed my Master without turning around, "Are you all right, Qui-Gon?" I questioned, concerned that he may have been surprised by the ferocity of the wind shear.

          "I'm fine," he answered, coming to sit next to me in the co-pilot's seat.  "However, if that's what you call 'a little turbulence', I don't think I want to see your idea of a tempest," his voice was teasing, and I smiled.

          Slightly distracted by my attempt to discover what had caused the alarm to sound, my response came a little late.  "Sorry about that – it was a little stronger than I expected and I lost control of the ship for a little while.  Just be glad that that was _with_ the shock absorbers," I joked, still rather distant.

          Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow at me, "And here I thought that you were just trying to have some fun with your old Master – seeing if he could handle your rollercoaster like approach to landing a starship.  I see you even removed the seatbelts to ensure I would more thoroughly…enjoy the ride."

          I grinned, "Don't worry; I wouldn't do that unless you were asleep, and," I added, "it wasn't me who designed a ship with no seatbelts," I glanced around the cockpit, "this thing's an antique.  They must have given it to us because they knew you'd feel comfortable in something from your own century."  Even as I spoke, I marveled at the growing ease in our relationship which let me take such liberties with him.

          Instead of the soft chuckle that would have normally greeted such a joke, Qui-Gon asked, "What happened, and what was the alarm for?" his voice was serious and I knew the time for humor was over.

          Quickly, I told him what had happened, including the fact that I was having trouble determining why the alarm had sounded because I wasn't familiar enough with the ship.  All I knew was that one of the systems had malfunctioned.

          Sparing Qui-Gon a quick glance, I saw that his eyes were closed, his expression pensive.  At first I thought he was reaching out to the Force, searching for the answer within its expansive depths, but I could sense that he hadn't deepened his connection to it.  In fact, he seemed to have withdrawn into himself.

          "What are you doing?" I hadn't intended to speak so softly but my tone was a gentle whisper, as if I was subconsciously loath to disturb him.

          Qui-Gon raised a hand, signaling for me to remain silent, and stayed like that, with his eyes closed, for a few more seconds before answering me.  When he did, I was mystified by his question.  "Do you feel that?" he asked.

          I frowned, "Feel what?"

          "The tremors," he answered.

          Tremors?  I didn't feel anything, "There aren't any tremors," I countered, confused.

          He smiled, "Yes, there are.  They are very slight, but present nonetheless."

          Shaking my head, I decided to continue checking the systems for malfunctions.  In a few minutes I would have to power down the thrusters to keep them from burning out, and I needed to know what was wrong before I attempted to pilot us out of this whirlpool.

          "Check the shock absorbers," my Master ordered.

          Doubtfully, I did as he asked.

          Bringing up the shock absorbers' control panel, I checked the system's power output and felt a spike of fear shoot through me at what I saw.  The system was completely unresponsive.

          I closed my eyes.  The shock absorbers helped to keep the hull from rupturing by absorbing as much of the shock as possible before it could inflict damage, and by so doing neutralized most turbulence.  Without them, in a ship this size, anything less than minor disturbances could very well lead to breaks in the hull that would tear the vessel apart.

          All the information that Qui-Gon had forced me to memorize came looming into my mind.  This planet was known for its rapidly forming, extremely powerful tempests and even under normal circumstances its wind shear was classified as the most dangerous of any planet in the Republic

          Almost without meaning to, I dropped my gaze back to the visual readout and what I saw only served to make fear pulsate through my veins.  The eddy of wind shear we had been trapped in had escalated into a growing storm.  Our thrusters wouldn't last long against such powerful winds.  As soon as they went out, we'd be at their mercy.

          My breath caught in my throat and my heartbeat increased in my sudden anxiety.  An aching pain settled in my chest and I had to take several deep breaths to calm my rising fright.  Uselessly, I tried to fight off the hopelessness that was creeping through my body.  I could not rid myself of the unshakable feeling that this was only a preface of what was to come.  

          Qui-Gon, having sensed my emotions through our bond, was quick to question me.  "Obi-Wan?"

          "The shock absorbers are out and a storm front is forming around us."  I reported, swallowing hard.

          "Can you fix the system?" even in the face of this news, he remained ever calm.

          Shaking my head, I answered, "Not from here – the ship's designs aren't familiar to me, so unless you want to mess around with the wiring, we're in for a rough ride."  

          'Rough ride' was putting in mildly but I couldn't speak what I was thinking.  The average wind speed during a storm on this planet was over 50 miles per hour – we'd be more than lucky if we made it through this in one piece.  

"Obi-Wan," I felt a reassuring tug on our bond accompany his voice, "if you reroute emergency power to the main and emergency thrusters, you should be able to use the emergency thrusters to keep us steady while you use the main thrusters to break through the turbulence before the storm escalates any more than it already has."

          Hoping that he was right, I hurried to switch the emergency power from the systems it usually covered, to the thrusters.  Once we cleared the turbulence I would be able to direct the power back to life support and navigation – where it would be needed if we experienced a power fluctuation.

          A loud, high-pitched beeping sound greeted my attempt to access the emergency power and it did not take me long to identify the problem.  "I can't reroute the power," I said, "It's not letting me bypass the safety lock."

          "You shouldn't have any problem with the safety lock, it's only there to prevent accidental redirection of important power," Qui-Gon mused, "are you sure that's the problem?"

          "Pretty sure, but why don't you try – just in case."

          Qui-Gon's hands flew out to touch the computer console – fingertips fluently moving over the different controls.  A few seconds later, the same beeping halted his actions.  "Obi-Wan," his voice was grim, "the safety lock isn't the problem…the problem is that there _is_ no emergency power to reroute – it's somehow been drained."

          My chest tightened in response to my heightened alarm.  

          The emergency thrusters were still at full power but both the navigational array and the visual readout showed that the ship was beginning to lose ground against the attacking winds and was edging closer and closer to the storm.  As soon as the emergency thrusters went out, it would be battling the howling rages of an angry tempest.  How in the universe would we navigate through this without being torn to bits?

          The vessel was starting to noticeably tremble and the normally soothing wind was now a fierce battle cry, called out in warning just before the launch of a devastating attack. The sound sent chills through me and made the hair on my arms stand on end. 

          Almost as soon as my fear had grown from a flicker to a burning flame, I felt Qui-Gon soothing me through our bond.  Waves of comfort flooded my mind but this time it was simply not enough.  For even as he offered me his serenity to latch onto, pictures of our desperately small shuttle, hurtling out of control through a thunderous storm, flashed before my eyes.

          A reassuring hand touched my shoulder, squeezing slightly.  "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice was patient but urgent, "it will be all right.  We'll make it.  We don't need the shock absorbers or the emergency thrusters to navigate the storm.  All we need is the Force."

          I shook my head, "The Force can't dissipate a storm and without the shock absorbers this ship will be destroyed.  Even if the hull can stand the battering, we can't.  Who will pilot the ship when we're hurled about the vessel and lose consciousness?"

          "Padawan, you're an amazing pilot.  You have extraordinarily fast reflexes and your abilities have advanced by almost astronomical amounts in the last two years.  Although you lack experience, I regard you as you a better pilot than me in all but one area – the Force.  You use the Force everyday of your life, Obi-Wan, but when you step into the cockpit of a starship, you seem to forget that it can help you there as well.  Open yourself to it, let it flow through you as you usually do and you will see that it can guide you through this as well."

          Before I even considered his words, I knew that he was right.  The Force wasn't simply something to be tapped into when one needed to release dangerous emotions, perform a daring physical feat, or "see" in an otherwise dark room.  It was the essence that surrounded all things in the universe and it was alive.  Over the years I had learned to let it guide me when I did not know what road to take – now it was time to let it guide me here as well.

          Relaxing my painfully tense body, I closed my eyes and let the Force rush through my body and soul.  Touching its brilliant light, I drew it into me and let its love calm the fear in my soul.  Within it I could sense peace and hope.  As long as I remembered all that I had been taught and was open to what it was willing to show me, it would always be there to help me find my way.  

          I opened my eyes, feeling calm and secure.  

          Through the Master/Padawan bond, I could feel Qui-Gon's pride in me, but had no time to take pleasure in it for despite my newfound confidence I soon realized that I had not achieved it quickly enough for the tempest.          

          A reverberating pop told me the emergency thrusters had just gone out and like a growing shockwave, a tremor ripped through the vessel, shaking everything with such intensity that it felt like the walls were coming apart around us.  Then, with long tentacles of destruction, the wind whipped around from under the ship and shoved its brutal force against us with such might that the shuttle was sent hurtling into the angry storm. 

          The pressure of the abrupt movements shoved me out of my seat and sent me slamming forward into the array of computer consoles in front of me.  Colors blurred and intermingled, overloading my swimming vision as I helplessly tumbled without hope of easing my fall.

          The edge of the panel, hard and unyielding against my tender flesh, cut painfully into the skin of my chest with alarming ferocity – biting into me with snapping teeth.  Almost simultaneous to this came the sickening thud of my head smashing into the obdurate surface of the computer console.  

          Insistent agony washed away all semblance of coherence and rushed through me with unbelievable speed.  My forehead and temples were pounding pools of fiery torment and a terrible empty feeling spread out through my lungs, sending a stab of agony through my heart.

          Weakly, I coughed and sputtered.  Somehow managing to suck air into my abused lungs I tried to push the pain away but all that greeted my effort was a reproving wash of dizziness that made my breath catch in my throat.

          My mind was on fire.

          The rushing feeling of cool air against my sweat drenched, over-heated skin, gave my battered body the disorienting impression that I was plummeting backwards through the air.  Darkened pictures of red flickering lights and dull gray walls flashed before my eyes, but it wasn't until I became aware of my flaying arms that I realized I _was_ falling.

          A loud grunt was torn from my lips as my back made contact with the firm but shaking floor or the shuttle.  Hitting down agonizingly hard, my arms and legs landed seconds after my body.  The shock of the impact left me momentarily stunned but the pain bounded in with alacrity.

          My thoughts were ablaze with acid.  Explosions of pain filled my mind and rung mercilessly in my ears.  Even though my eyes were open, I couldn't see anything – my vision was a swimming whirlpool of obscure shadows that threatened to creep forward and consume me in an embrace of thoughtless night.   Not caring that the ship would be torn to smithereens, not caring that Qui-Gon and I would both die, it eagerly encircled and ensnared my mind, drawing me forward as it laughed at my inability to fight it.

TBC…  (for those of you actually reading this, I'll try to post once every couple of days)


	2. Crash Landing

Hi!! First of all, I'd like to thank you all for the FB! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Though, Sarah, I'm kinda curious as to why you say you've been waiting for this for a long time? *quizzical look* Before you skip off to read the next part, please read my little note:

I forgot to mention that a couple times in this story Obi talks about something that happened in a previous story, "The Most Important Thing." Actually, I wrote "The Most..." after writing the parts that referenced it in this story...it inspired me! Anyway, you don't have to read "The Most..." 'cause it's not important to the plot or anything, and it's hardly mentioned at all, but if you want to you can find it at my site.

BTW – this is one of those parts that's really heavy on description!  I swear, I have pages for what could have been done in paragraphs!

'Kay, that's all I have to say for now!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Two: Crash Landing ~

**Obi-Wan:**

As my mind relinquished its control over my body and receded into the beckoning arms of sleep, the agony slipped from my mind. It was strangely inviting, the lulling world of painless rest, and I almost yielded to it without a single protest. 

Almost.

No! The thought came with surprising fortitude. I could not lose consciousness! If I did, the ship would crash and Qui-Gon and I would both surely die. I was stronger than this – I had to fight to stay awake.

With desperate strength and determination, I pushed the darkness away, not letting it consume me. Rushing back to full consciousness I accepted the pain back into my system, taking it for what it was – a sign that the night would to claim me. My head swam and my thoughts were hazed, but I didn't let it faze me. Instead I blinked several times, struggling to clear my vision.

Finally, surrendering to my willpower, the shadows retreated and I was blessed with the semblance of clarity. The pounding pain that claimed the entirety of my head was furious in its unrelenting presence but I forced myself to ignore it. I had to regain control of the ship and issue an emergency landing – it was the only way we'd survive.

Groaning softly, I rolled my splayed body up off the floor and managed to get into a crouching position. I swayed precariously and nearly fell down again when my movements caught up with me and a flash of bright hot pain engulfed my thoughts. Viciously encircling my mind, the agony seemed intent on thwarting me.

I shook my head – I _had_ to land this ship and I wouldn't let anything stop me. 

Reaching out to the Force I let it wash over me and offered up my pain to it, willing it to ease the brutality of it enough for me to think. Infinite in its possibilities, the Force embraced my body and the light of its sheer serenity washed over my body, soothing away the harshness of the agony.

Despite the terrible, earthquake-like tremors that shook the ship, I was able to climb to my feet and stumble into the pilot's chair. The pain was still there, all too stinging in its touch, but it was bearable now.

Even as I took in the information that the computers were flooding me with, I reached out to Qui-Gon. Master? I sent to him, are you all right?

There was no answer. 

Momentarily turning, I saw that my Master was splayed across the computer console directly across from his chair. A pool of blood surrounded his head, seeping to cover the shiny surface of the control panel. He trembled with the violently shaking ship but he was completely unresponsive to any external stimuli and alarmingly lifeless. He was unconscious.

I grimly returned my gaze to the flashing panels before me – I would have to do this alone. For Qui-Gon's sake and my own.

Taking in the swirling mass of black and red that covered the visual readout, I intuitively imputed the new vector that would lead the ship through the calmest patch of air that I could find. However, considering the tempest, that wasn't saying much.

It was only then that I heard the alarm's warning cry. The sound was no different than it had been before – equally loud and grating – but it held in it the warning cry of a thousand sirens. An ominous hum in the Force served to chill my blood – the unsettling feeling shot through me like the tremors that wracked the shuttle.

My gaze was drawn to the systems panel. The flashing red light told me all I needed to know – the navigational array had gone out. Without it I had no way of telling where the ship was – no way to gauge our altitude or position. All I had was the small visual readout, a display of the air space immediately surrounding the vessel.

Instead of letting myself worry over what to do, I trusted my instincts. A second's glance at the visual readout had me altering the ship's trajectory to compensate for the storm's changing fingers of anger. So far I had managed to keep us out of the most intense regions of the storm. If I could keep that up, I could perhaps ride the tempest safely to the other side. Then I would worry about landing the shuttle.

The ship was under a constant battering pressure. In the back of my mind I could hear the wind and rain beating against it and even though I mostly ignored it, my body was shaking with the jerking and rattling seats. It reminded me of being on Cytis Prime during the earthquake that had nearly decimated two cities.

My fingers froze in mid-vector adjustment when the lights of the visual readout flickered and then went completely dark. Fear that I couldn't control surged through my blood like shocks of lightning and settled in my chest, tightening it to the point where breathing became painful. I had just lost all knowledge of the storm. I had no way of knowing how close I was to the ground, no way to emergency land. 

The pain that had settled in my heart grew to devour my chest, pounding in time with my suddenly quick breathing. The ship was out of control, being hammered about in the throws of a wretched tempest. The only thing that kept me sitting down was the gravity generator – without it both Qui-Gon and I would be bouncing off the walls of the shuttle like ping-pong balls. I could practically _hear_ the ruptures forming in the hull. Against the pressures from outside, I knew that my Master and I only had a few minutes to live.

A quick inhalation of breath that was the result of my irrepressible anxiety tickled at the base of my throat and sent the air rushing out of me amongst a fit of coughing. A few deep breaths calmed my breathing, but it was much harder to tame my fear.

With the navigational array, visual readout, and the Force, I might have been able to land the ship but now… But now it was like being blindfolded during a lightsaber tournament. The realization hit me suddenly. It made things harder, yes, but not impossible. If I could use the Force to see where my opponent was going to move next, why couldn't I use it to anticipate the tyrannical hands of an angry tempest? Why couldn't I use it to navigate the ship to safety? I still had the main thrusters, navigational control, and life support. As long as I could direct the shuttle's flight I had a fighting chance.

First I had to calm myself. I could not let myself become overwhelmed by emotion – I was 18 years old and had learned well how to control my fear. I could not forget my lessons in the moment when I needed them the most. I would not do shame to my training.

Calling upon all the discipline that Qui-Gon had ground into me during our five years together, I opened myself completely to the sinuous rivers of the Force and allowed them to wholly overwhelm my body. Instead of simply letting it cascade through me, I gave myself up to its power – its guidance and wisdom. In a way I never had before, I allowed myself to fall into it until I could feel it surrounding me entirely, pulsating against me and carrying me safely through its expansive depths.

For the first time in my life, I could utterly understand what Qui-Gon meant when he said that everything was alive with the Force. Before, I had always believed that the Force was alive, and that was true, of course, but not in the limited sense I had thought it. I could now feel that the Force wasn't merely alive, it _was_ life. It flowed through _all_ things, binding them together in a way I had never before imagined.

Everything in the universe, from the most beautiful rose to the dullest piece of metal, sang with its on Force signature. Shinning differently through every object, the Force gave things a color, a feel, a life all their own. The galaxy was alive with the different brilliant colors of the things that inhabited it, and now, marveling at how I had never understood before, I could see the true beauty of the Force. 

With my eyes closed and my mind open, I could see everything that surrounded me. The ship, built from so many different metals and substances, glowed with a beauty that I never would have thought possible given its boring, gray appearance. Beyond the vessel's walls the conflicting winds were like tidal waves of blues, greens, and reds, flowing against each other in a show of splendor much more breathtaking than any sunset Qui-Gon and I had ever shared. The colors nearly overwhelmed me and suddenly I realized that the storm wasn't an enemy trying to destroy us, merely a force that could be traversed without fear as long as one was open to the Force.

Using completely steady hands, I touched my fingertips to the computer console and let them dance gracefully over the controls. My hands flew over the blood-stained panels, making course corrections that I wasn't even aware of formulating, as the Force filled my being and certainty of my actions thrummed through my blood.

In my mind I could easily read the picture the Force was feeding me and I knew, with an undeniable confidence, that the only way to break through this tempest was to ride the winds instead of fighting them. Complementing the power of the thrusters with the awesome strength of the winds, the ship surfed through the storm like a stick floats over water. 

So sure was I of my actions that when I sensed we were much closer to the ground than I thought – only a hundred feet above it – I didn't falter. Instead, I adjusted the ship's path so that slowly, patiently, it descended through the winds and rains and closer to a rough, but safe landing.

_'Seeing'_ the trees we would soon be hurtling into, wondrous beings of brilliant life and awesome color, I gripped the arm of the chair tightly with one hand and continued to input course corrections with my other. With a loud, resounding impact, the ship smashed into trunks, branches, and leaves, slowly losing velocity with each jagged impact that furiously forced my body back against the shuddering chair.

Finally, the shuttle rammed into the ground.

My clutching hold on the chair was nothing against the ferocity of the collision and I was sent forcefully lurching forward into the already bloody control panel with agonizing intensity. But this time when pain consumed my senses and blackness encroached upon my thoughts, I was not afraid to surrender myself to unconsciousness for the dazzling colors of the Force still danced before my eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan, a voice that was more a feeling than a sound reached out from the thick, endless night to whisper my name. It was a mere tickle against my mind from within the Force and the sensation was like that of being in a deep sleep and being called to wakefulness by something that seemed far, far away. Although I was too removed from true awareness to recognize the voice, I immediately perceived that it was Qui-Gon, using the Force to touch my mind, and that I was drifting very close to the void of total unconsciousness.

I tried to answer but found it impossible. Qui-Gon's voice, his bond with me, was the only thing that surpassed this darkness and I was unable to gather enough strength to reach through it myself. The Force, always and forever present, was at the edges of my grasp but I could barely sense it. It was like I was disembodied, like my thoughts were contained in some small, buried part of my mind. My tenuous grasp on awareness was sustained only my Master, who had reached within my unconscious mind for some reason unbeknownst to me. 

Padawan, the sound was still faint but the touch on my mind was stronger, pulsating somehow within me. It seemed to be compelling me, drawing me forward, but not towards consciousness, simply towards him. In a rush, the Force was pushed towards me, swarming in a mass of beauty and light around my thoughts. It was not I who was gathering the energy; it was my Master sending it to me. 

At first, I wondered what Qui-Gon wanted me to do but then, as the Force continued to build and flow about me, I recognized what he was attempting. I had done it countless times myself, but I had never been on the receiving end – had never had someone do it for me. My Master was initiating a healing trance not for him, but for myself.

I hadn't even known this was possible but, after a brief flickering in the swirling mass of energy Qui-Gon was enveloping me in, I felt the healing tendrils of the Force begin to soothe the wounds I had suffered in the crash. Then, as soon as the trance was stable, I felt my Master's mind slipping away from me. I wanted to thank him but he was gone before I could figure out how to reach past the darkness that held me prisoner, and with him, my consciousness also fled.

~~~~~~~~~~

A faint pattering drizzle of whispering waves of sound breached the thick clouds of darkness that hung about my thoughts, slowly lulling me into wakefulness. Swirling about my mind and echoing hollowly, a rising howl accompanied the unbroken prattle of random drumming that beat in my temples. By increasing increments, the constant thrumming grew louder and louder until it filled my ears with a thunderously loud ruckus of indecipherable noises.

Prickling cold fingers tickled at my skin, fleetingly touching my face and arms and leaving a trail of flowing wetness behind them. My entire body was alive with the strange sensation of being covered in a seeping skin of freezing liquid that crawled and rolled over me. A feather-light, itching touch against one eyelid, over my nose, and across my mouth, was an annoying but equally unidentifiable feeling.

Trying to reach through the thinning, but nonetheless obscuring blanket that still covered my mind, I pushed towards the light of consciousness. Though it seemed a futile battle, I could feel the veil falling and giving way to clearer, logical thought. After a timeless period I became aware, on a coherent level, of the world around me. 

The first thing that struck me was the Force. The wondrous connection that I had achieved had completely dissipated and in comparison to it, my normal connection seemed lacking, pitiful even. The energy that Qui-Gon had used to keep me in a healing trance while I wad unconscious was mostly gone now – presumably because he had ended it shortly before I awoke – but there was something different other than that surplus of power. 

I slowly opened my heavy, liquid coated eyes.

Blinking to clear the moisture that obscured my vision, I looked around to take in my surroundings. I was half-sitting, half-laying, over the chair, with my head propped up on one of the arms and my feet dangling over the other. My clothes were soaked through, my hair was matted to my head, and my dripping braid was plastered across my face. 

Irritated, I swiped my hand over my face and flicked my braid out of the way. Then I rubbed the water off me and brushed my fingers through my hair to un-stick the strands that clung to my forehead. As I did, I felt an abrupt stinging break out over my brow to momentarily obscure my thoughts. The pain was harsh but fleeting and reminded me of the wound I had suffered during the crash. 

Tentatively, I touched my fingers against the wound that now ached dully. The pain increased on contact but not by the magnitude I would have expected. The agony I had experienced when first receiving the wound had nearly robbed me of consciousness and I was surprised to feel only a coarse scab and very little fresh blood. True, Qui-Gon had initiated a healing trance for me, but how much time had passed that my wound had mended to such an extent?

Outside, the storm that had brought the ship down raged on. The sound I hadn't been able to identify was the rain, battering and hammering loudly against the shuttle's hull as the wind, a baying cry amongst the never-ending fury, blew it through harshly swaying branches and falling leaves. 

Small fractures in the hull were the perfect openings for the slithering, sneaky rain that dripped into the ship to thoroughly saturate me. The miniscule holes were apparently present throughout the shuttle for when I looked around I could see numerous streams of water falling from the ceiling, including one that was perfectly situated to trickle over my face.

Several of the seats and supplies that had been present in the ship were strewed across the floor, broken and shattered. Other than the fractures that were rudely letting in the rain, the ship was miraculously intact. 

Qui-Gon was nowhere to be seen. "Master?" I called out to him, thinking that he was in the back room, meditating or deep in his own healing trance.

Swinging my legs over the armrest of the chair, I carefully sat up. When I didn't feel any great amount of disorientation or dizziness, I rose to my feet and looked down at the computer consoles. They were covered in a sheen of muddy water but it was easily wiped away to reveal a mass of flickering panels and blinking lights. Most of the systems were not functioning at all, and those that were would require repair.

My fingers froze over the consoles they had been hovering over and I frowned. Why hadn't Qui-Gon answered me? My Master never initiated a healing trace without ensuring that part of his mind was still focused on his surroundings. Qui-Gon? this time I used our bond, knowing he would hear me even if he was in the middle of the most profound meditation.

Again, only silence greeted me.

Now I was truly worried and I reached deeper into our bond, probing to see what the problem was. Despite the closeness of our relationship, my Master was always careful to ensure that most of his thoughts and feelings did not leak through our bond. This wasn't done for lack of trust – merely for the sake of both our privacy. Therefore, I expected to find his normal shields in place and was shocked, and more than a little scared at what I encountered. The bond was dead on Qui-Gon's end. I could feel nothing from him, no shields, no pain, no emotion, nothing. There was only an oppressive silence that clenched at my heart and turned my blood cold.

A stinging pang shot through me, tightening my chest. Tingling cold shivers, starting at the base of my spine, slithered up my back and made my hands tremble slightly. A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and my heart began to quicken its beat, pounding against my temples. 

Something was wrong. 

Images my mind had gathered during the crash filtered back through my thoughts. After almost losing consciousness I had stumbled to my feet, sat down, and turned to my right to see Qui-Gon lying across the computer console, a pool of blood surrounding his head…

I looked towards where my Master had been slumped. Streaks of blood still marred the chipped and partly cracked surface of the panels, dripping onto the floor with the trails of flowing rainwater. Qui-Gon wasn't there though, or on the floor, or – for that matter – anywhere in the vessel that I could see. That left only the back room.

Turning, I quickly made my way towards the small sleeping quarters. About halfway there I caught sight of something that made my eyes go wide. I felt a cold hand grab my heart, clenching it tightly and making pain shoot through my chest. The air I inhaled evaporated somewhere between my nose and lungs, leaving me winded and gasping for breath so hard that I ended up hyperventilating. 

It wasn't so much what I saw that ignited something very close to panic deep within me, but the gnawing, empty feeling that settled in my heart when I realized that what I first thought was debris, was actually the tips of my Master's feet in the doorway that connected the small sleeping chambers to the rest of the shuttle. I hadn't seen him before because the wall that divided the two rooms also obscured the rest of his body. 

Immediately the dreadful fear that something was wrong turned into an undeniable certainty.

Rushing to reach his side, I leapt the remaining distance to the door and carefully stepped over his feet and into the other room. My mind screamed at my body to keep moving, to help my Master, but this time it _was_ what I saw that doubled my fear and made me freeze in place.

Blood streaked the man's face, intermingling with the patina of sweat that bathed his skin. He was extremely pale and the trails of red that marred his features looked all the more harsh against the abnormally light skin. I swallowed weakly. My Master looked helplessly small – weak and so unlike the stoic Jedi Master I had grown to respect and deeply care for. 

My mind raced even though I was immobile. How was this possible? How had this happened? Qui-Gon had obviously regained consciousness – he wouldn't have been able to lead me into a healing trance if he hadn't – so why hadn't he formed one for himself also? Why was he lying here, covered in blood, with a ghastly head wound? Why was I healed, and yet he wasn't?

My thoughts reeled about in a storm as furious as the one outside as I desperately assumed the worst. He had obviously never initiated a healing trance for himself. What if he had been hurt worse than I had in the crash? He had lost consciousness long before me – what if his wounds had been too severe and he… 

No! I stopped myself from finishing the thought, unable to accept that it could be true.

Forcing myself out of my shocked immobility, I dropped to my knees next to Qui-Gon and murmured his name, my voice heavy and rasping against the parched dryness of my throat.

Carefully, I lifted his head and shoulders and pulled him halfway up into my lap where I cradled him within my trembling arms. There was a deep gash in his forehead, slowly leaking a trail of crimson blood from amongst a wretched scab of torn skin and tangled strands of hair. Carding my fingers through the tousled mass of hair, I touched something sticky and wet that stained my skin red. When I looked at the floor where he had been laying, I was disgusted to see a thick pool of blood.

TBC… (on Sunday)


	3. Eyes in the Dark

Hi guys! 

I'm happy to announce that, IMO, you've survived the worst. Although there are still long action scenes and descriptions ahead, part one and part two had the ones I liked the least. I'm still iffy about some other parts, but at least they don't seem as bad as the crash and the part right after Obi wakes regains consciousness shudders at how overdone those were

Thanks for the FB and here's the next part!

So…enjoy!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Three: Eyes in the Dark ~

**Obi-Wan:**

Placing my hands on his shoulders I began to shake him almost frantically. "Master!" my voice was urgent and loud in the dead silence of the shuttle. "Qui-Gon!" I exclaimed, with more urgency this time, denying that he could really be gone, that I could have lost him in such a senseless manner. Qui-Gon! now I sent my frenzied plea through our lifeless bond and imbued my voice with all the powerful, uncontrollable emotions I was feeling.

My own loud breathing suddenly filled my ears and I was struck motionless by the sense of distorted reality that replaced my previous terror. Now, under my tightly gripping hands my Master was completely immobile, and my heart clenched upon receiving no reaction from him. I was so overwhelmed by my emotions that I almost missed the soft moan because of the pounding of my heart as it threatened to beat its way out of my chest.

I sucked a quick breath of air into my lungs and held it there, forcing myself to remain totally silent as another, louder, groan emerged from deep within Qui-Gon's chest, sounding to my ears like the most beautiful noise I had ever heard. His eyelids remained closed but underneath them I could see my Master's eyes moving, as if he was trying to look around. Then there was a gentle, disoriented touch on my mind through our reawakened bond, followed by a flood of agony that wasn't my own.

"Qui-Gon," I whispered softly, my relief so great that his name caught in my throat and my voice was gruffly strangled. Tears stung at my eyes, blurring my vision. Despite my best attempts to hold back the childish display of emotion, a few stray droplets of water slid down my cheeks and fell to wet his face.

I swallowed hard and blinked several times to clear away the tears. Then I brushed my bloodstained fingers through his knotted hair, determined to try and soothe away the lines of pain that had formed in Qui-Gon's brow. The agony of his head wound was pulsating in my own mind and I instantly delved deeper into our bond in an attempt to help him deal with it better. My endeavor was thwarted by Qui-Gon himself for my actions served to tell him that I could feel his pain and seconds later his control was strictly in place, effectively blocking everything he didn't want me to feel.

Shaking my head, I sighed softly. My Master always wanted to protect me from what he thought would hurt me but I wished that he would let me help him. Whenever I was hurt he used our bond to alleviate my pain and now that our places were reversed, I wanted to do the same for him.

Qui-Gon's eyes fluttered open and I immediately read the concern in them. A questioning tendril touched my mind and it was then that I realized that he had sensed my previous panic and had taken note of the tears that still pooled in my eyes. It humbled me that despite the pain I knew he was feeling, he was still worried for me.

With my terror for my Master's life having faded, I abruptly felt extremely embarrassed. When I had seen Qui-Gon lying on the floor I had panicked. I hadn't thought to check for his pulse, I had simply reacted. Everything I had ever been taught as a Jedi had vanished from my thoughts in the face of the fact that I thought my Master might be dead.

I felt a faint blush color my cheeks and shook my head slightly, trying to tell him that everything was all right. "How do you feel?" I asked, attempting to mask my shame from the bond.

Qui-Gon smiled slightly to reassure me, "I…I'll be all right, Padawan," he rasped, his voice cracking badly, but as soon as he answered my question he followed with one of his own. "H-how are…you?"

I immediately knew he was not talking about my physical state. "I-I thought that you…that you were…" my shaky voice was barely audible and I choked on my words, unable to finish the sentence as emotions swelled inside me. The memory of my previous fear for his life battled with my relief, making my heart ache.

My cheeks flushed even further and I closed my eyes, attempting to find my center within the Force. A gentle tug on my braid and a flood of understanding through our bond calmed me enough so that, when I took several deep breaths to help ease my thoughts, I was able to regain control over most of my feelings and release the remnants of my fear into the Force.

Now all I had left was my embarrassment. How was it that I had learned to remain more calm and patient than I had ever been able to before, but there were still times when I felt like I was thirteen again – easily overwhelmed and struck by panic when someone I cared for was in danger? I had, briefly, been more connected to the Force than I thought possible, and yet I had let my emotions rule my actions – again. Would I ever learn to be as serene as Qui-Gon in the face of danger?

"Obi-Wan…" my Master spoke but I did not open my eyes, "You're…so young, d-don't expect to be able to…skip o-over years of training. You'll get here…in t-time."

Sighing, I realized that Qui-Gon was right. I had learned a lot as an Initiate and even more as his Padawan, but I couldn't expect to be able to do everything a Jedi Master could without the years of training that accompanied that skill. I worked hard and I had to be happy with the pace I was advancing at. I knew that, but it never stopped me from wanting to be better than I was, or worrying that I wasn't doing well enough.

I opened my eyes and found Qui-Gon staring at me with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's…all right, Obi-Wan," he whispered, releasing my braid.

Smiling, I nodded and sent him my thanks through our bond.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dabbing the wet cloth into the container of bacta that I had found in the ship's emergency medical kit, I continued to liberally apply it to Qui-Gon's forehead wound. Once I had used a disinfectant to clean away all of the blood I had realized that the gash was really less serious than it seemed. My Master had lost a lot of blood – was very lightheaded and having trouble controlling the pain – but with enough time to rest and initiate a healing trace, he would be fine.

"It was amazing, Qui-Gon," I whispered as I worked, "It wasn't like anything I've ever experienced before. I wasn't simply _connected_ to the Force…I was a _part_ of it… It-it was…I can't explain it." I fell silent and waited for my Master to respond to my explanation of what had happened after he had lost consciousness during the crash.

Qui-Gon reached out and touched my cheek, "I know," he said, his voice very quiet and pensive but still rather shaky, "The first…time that h-happened to me it w-was…overwhelming." The wistful tone he was using made me momentarily pause in my work, and when I looked into his eyes I was surprised to find them steadily fastened to my own. Pride clearly shone through his gaze, but regret and a twinge or sorrow were also present.

"Master?" I questioned softly.

He shook his head and smiled, "It's a-all right," his words were barely audible, "I was j-just thinking about…how much you've c-changed."

"That makes you sad?" I always thought that he was pleased with the way I was maturing.

A gentle touch of reassurance through our bond accompanied his answer, "Only b-because that means…our t-time is short."

I blushed and looked down, pleased by the affection and caring that I could so clearly sense in his manner. It honored me that he would be sad because my Knighting would mean the end of our partnership. "We still have many years together, Master," I assured him, "I am only eighteen."

My Master's hand dropped from my cheek and he didn't answer. After a few moments of silence I began applying bacta to the bandage I would use to cover his wound, only speaking again when I felt I could no longer wait to question him regarding what had happened after he had initiated my healing trance. 

"Qui-Gon," I started hesitantly, "I… What happened? Why didn't you initiate a healing trance for yourself?"

Qui-Gon covered my hands in a comforting grip, stilling them and drawing my gaze back up to his eyes with a touch of his thumb against my chin. "I-I'm not sure…when I regained c-consciousness," he began, his voice quavering slightly, "but I immediately used the Force and probed both of our injuries and realized that you would not a-awaken, for…many, many hours. I decided that it would be best to begin a healing trance, so that the Force would work to m-mend your…wounds while your body worked to wake y-you. When I finished I didn't have enough energy to initiate a healing trance for myself and I lost consciousness."

He paused, staring deeply into my eyes, and seemed on the verge of continuing, of telling me something more, but instead he fell silent, shaking his head slightly. "I…I will need to form a healing trance soon, Obi-Wan," he said at last, "you should finish bandaging my wound b-because I'm feeling worse now…" 

Returning my attention to the bandage, I silently worked to prepare it as I wondered what my Mater had been about to tell me. I knew there was more to it than what he had said. Why hadn't he simply initiated a healing trance for himself? I, like he, had suffered a concussion and would have awakened to find him in trace, and then followed suit. It seemed a dangerous thing for him to do – to use his energy on me – and I wanted to know what had made him do it.

Fortunately, it only took a few more minutes to bandage Qui-Gon's wound for my Master seemed to be having a harder time dealing with the pain. Before, his shields had completely blocked it from me but now I was able to feel echoes of it through our bond. I wanted to help him but I knew that if I tried he would only redouble his efforts to keep his pain from reaching me and that was energy I didn't want him to waste on protecting me.

Qui-Gon's teeth were chattering slightly and his eyes were closed. He had his arms wrapped around his chest and was rubbing his hands over them in an attempt to stay warm. My breath caught; he looked so very helpless, shaking and huddled into himself as he was. 

I grabbed one of the blankets on the nearby bed and pulled it free. After checking to make sure that it was dry I draped it over his shoulders. "Here," I said, "this should help."

Qui-Gon accepted the blanket graciously, with a small smile, and drew it around himself so that the ends were clenched together in his hands at the base of his neck. "Thank…you," he murmured softly, sending me a flood of gratitude through our bond that was not simply for the blanket, but for taking the time to treat his wounds so gently.

"You're welcome," I whispered, leaning back to stare at him thoughtfully.

If I hadn't awoken him when I had, he might have entered a severe state of shock. A bacta treatment and a healing trance alone might not have been enough to heal him. He would have needed hospital treatment and it would have been very unlikely for him to have gotten it in time. True, it hadn't happened, but it _could_ have happened and I needed to know why he had chosen to initiate a healing trance for me instead of himself.

My Master, seeming to sense my gaze, looked up at me with a questioning expression.

I opened my mouth, hesitated momentarily, and then asked simply, "Why?" I knew he would understand.

Qui-Gon smiled sadly and twined my braid around his fingers. When he spoke his words were heavy and tinged with powerful emotions. "Because you were dying," he said with deceptive calmness, shocking me with his words.

My heart tightened and I stiffened. "Dying?" I repeated dumbly. "M-my wound was that severe?" I found it hard to believe. If I had been hurt that badly then I wouldn't have healed that quickly…unless more time had passed than I thought. 

He shook his head. "Not exactly." Cutting off any possible confused comment I might have made with a small wave of his hand, he continued, "W-when I probed your injuries I sensed something which I t-then couldn't explain, but now u-understand. Obi-Wan, when you first establish such a deep connection to the Force, l-like the one you…used to land the ship, it is very overpowering. Normally you would have…drifted out of it and back to your normal connection gradually, and there wouldn't have been any…problems, but since you lost consciousness, your connection just abruptly snapped." he paused momentarily and I could feel him using the Force to ease a sudden spike of pain.

"That change from having so much Force energy flowing through you to abruptly returning to normal, sent you into shock. Instead of working to heal your wound, your body was essentially doing nothing. Your wound was progressively getting worse and worse. When I awoke…you were very weak and I feared that if a healing trance wasn't established soon, you would die," his voice grew thick with emotion but he continued, "I lacked strength myself, and I suspected that after I used my energy to start your healing process, I would lose consciousness…or die. But I also knew you wouldn't wake for many hours and I couldn't let you…d-die, so I chose to…make sure you would live." he finished.

I stared at Qui-Gon for many silent moments, too surprised to speak and almost too shocked to think straight. He had used his own energy to save me because he feared I would die. Painfully wounded himself, he had handed over the very force that was sustaining him so that I would live. He had known that doing that would drain him, enough to maybe fatally slow his own healing, and he had done it anyway. He had done it for me. For _me_.

Oh, Force. Qui-Gon could have died. He could have died because he had cared more for saving _me_ than himself, because he was willing to sacrifice his life for _mine_. I would have lost him…because of _me_. He would have died because of his loyalty to _me_. A loyalty that was born not of his duty to me as a Master, but of the friendship we shared. The thought sent sparks of fear through me.

A burning in my chest told me I had forgotten to breathe and I quickly sucked air into my lungs.

"You could have died!" I exclaimed a little more sharply than I had intended.

My Master nodded, his features serious but sad as he gazed at me. "I know, but if I had initiated the healing trance for myself, and not for you, and you hadn't made it… I wouldn't have been able to live with myself…knowing that I could have saved you."

Through our bond I could sense Qui-Gon thinking back to how he had felt when he had realized I was…dying. The same emotions that had assaulted me when I thought he was gone – fear, denial, panic, intense grief – had swarmed through him. The only difference was that he was a Jedi Master capable of controlling such feelings and acting rationally anyway. He had thought of a way to save me, and he had done it despite of the possible consequences. Now, now that he knew he had succeeded, sweet relief had replaced those other feelings, but a lingering sadness remained at the thought of what might have been. And behind it all was his caring for me, strong and bright, like a white light what washed through our bond.

A thick, consuming wave of emotion rose up within me and made my throat tighten and catch. That caring – that _love_ – that flowed over me and filled me such joy and gratitude, made me want to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I was simply too caught up in astonishment to react. I didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond to something like this. 'Thank you' didn't begin to express what I wanted to tell Qui-Gon.

I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. I wanted to tell him that I would have gladly done the same in return. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I wanted to tell him so many things, but found I couldn't form the words or even find the right emotions to send him through our bond. Finally, I settled on simply leaning forward and hugging him in a clinging, but gentle embrace. 

Qui-Gon responded by enfolding me in his arms and softly stroking my hair with a tenderness that made my heart ache. Resting my head against his chest, I closed my eyes and let out a small sigh, incredibly happy that I was blessed with a friend who was willing to do such a thing for me. Incredibly happy that I hadn't lost him.

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Qui-Gon had initiated his healing trance I had started working on fixing the communications system. It hadn't been badly damaged and it had taken me a few minutes to figure out that the reason it wasn't working was because, for some reason, it was receiving no power from the ship's main computer system. 

It had taken me two hours of rewiring the computer network just to figure out what the problem was, and another hour after that to fix it. The entire process had been extremely frustrating because whenever I managed to fix one thing, something else would go wrong. Apparently the computers had been tampered with and someone, although I could not fathom who, had specifically seen to it that communications wouldn't work. This wasn't a result of the crash – this system hadn't ever been working in the first place.

Quickly, I jumped to my feet and sat down in the chair again. Then I proceeded to activate the communications grid. This time I was pleased to hear the rush of power as the system reinitiated itself and automatically went to standby mode.

I directed the system to contact the Complex of Administration, hoping the storm would not scramble the transmission. "This is Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi," I spoke loudly, leaning forward so that I was as close as possible to the small microphone that was built into the computer console, "are you receiving this communication?"

A few moments of silence greeted my question but then there was garbled mass of static, obscuring what I thought was a man's voice. Amplifying the frequency, I tried again. "This is Padawan Kenobi, could you please repeat yourself?"

Another wash of distorted sounds erupted from the speakers but this time it fizzled into the background and I could now clearly make out a man's words among the annoying static. "This is T'Sixe Tnodi, communications monitor at the Directors' Complex of Administration. How may I help you, Jedi Padawan?" T'Sixe's voice was very gruff and he spoke with an unusual accent that I couldn't place. There was something strange about him though, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and I were entering the planet's atmosphere when the storm forced us to crash land. It will be quite impossible to get this ship back in the air again, therefore I was wondering if a rescue team could be sent to come and bring us to the capital city. I'm afraid I do not know our precise location…"

"The storm's interference is partially blocking the tracing signal but I have a general fix on your location." He seemed annoyed, I noted. "As soon as the storm clears sufficiently, I will send a team out to find you. I will inform the Directors of your delay." As he spoke his strange accent became more pronounced and his words seemed to be rushed, nearly tumbling over each other by the time he fell silent.

I frowned. The man seemed impatient, edgy even. Something told me it wasn't because he was a shy person, but I didn't know what to attribute his strange attitude to. "Thank you," I answered. "Do you have any idea how much longer the storm will last?"

"Storms on this planet are very difficult to predict, I cannot give you an estimate." T'Sixe sounded strained and distinctly uneasy, his words coming out as an almost unintelligible drawl and before I could answer I heard a loud, buzzing click followed by a renewed amount of static.

"T'Sixe?" I questioned, looking down to see if the amplification had failed. I was surprised to note that nothing had gone wrong on this end, nor had the storm greatly interfered. The signal was simply gone. T'Sixe had cut the transmission. 

For some reason I wanted to get him back, although I didn't know what I would say or ask him, but even as I signaled for the computer to send out a new transmission, a spark of electricity went through the control panel and was followed by a buzzing sizzle that indicated the system had just shorted out.

I leaned back in my chair, perplexed. Why had he been so rushed, so anxious? The entire conversation left me perturbed, as if the man had been hiding something. He had been so quick to get off the line and I feared that, for some reason, he was against the presence of Jedi on this planet and would not send out a rescue team.

Sighing, I shook my head. It was time to take Qui-Gon's age old advice to heart: I could not concentrate on my anxieties; I had to take things as they came. There was no real reason to worry yet and I had other things to do. I was very curious to see what else had been sabotaged. If communications had been tampered with, what other systems had purposefully been made to fail?

~~~~~~~~~~

I wearily massaged my temples in an effort to alleviate the thudding pressure that had built in my head. I had examined each system for signs of tampering and it had taken me so long to finish that my eyes stung and my vision was a little blurry. The frustrating hours that I had spent wiring and rewiring computer systems had exacerbated what remained of my forehead wound and it had flared up into an annoying, cutting itch.

To my amazement I had discovered that all the systems had painstakingly been connected to a central timer that was programmed to go off the instant the ship entered the atmosphere of a planet. Once the timer had activated, each system had malfunctioned a specific amount of time later, in a predetermined sequence. The only things that had worked normally were the engines and navigational control.

I had tried, more times than I could count, to theorize who the saboteur might be, but I still had absolutely no idea. I doubted that it was someone from Seltec because our mission had gone very smoothly and it would make no sense to kill us after we had already negotiated the peace treaty. Then again, the person couldn't be from this planet, Ceerus, either because the Seltec Government had given us this shuttle and it seemed very unlikely that anyone from Ceerus would have been able to find and sabotage it, especially since that meant that person would have had to know Qui-Gon and I had been assigned this mission. We hadn't even known that until yesterday morning.

It frustrated me to no end to not know who to suspect. This person, or group of people, would no doubt strike again when it was realized that we had survived the crash. Our lives were still in danger and yet I had no idea who was behind this. As much as it annoyed me, there was nothing I could do.

Sighing, I rose from where I was rather lifelessly sitting and made my way to the back room. I was so exhausted and tired of staring at computer panels that all I wanted was to meditate and _sleep_, to help recover my strength. Qui-Gon always had a different way of looking at things and would probably think of something that I hadn't. I would meditate until I could discuss this with him; perhaps together we could come up with the identity of the saboteur. 

I turned into the small sleeping chambers without really paying attention to where I was going, and nearly ran into Qui-Gon who was on his way out. Startled, I let out a small cry and felt my heartbeat spike and my breathing quicken.

My Master's hands immediately came to rest on my shoulders, soothingly tightening to comfort me. "Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" he questioned, sounding concerned as always.

I felt a faint blush color my cheeks and closed my eyes, embarrassed. My surprise quickly faded and it only took a few moments to calm myself back to my previously irritated state of being. "I'm sorry, Master," I responded lightly, opening my eyes to meet his curious gaze, "I was simply distracted and you startled me, that's all."

Qui-Gon nodded and squeezed my shoulders.

Taking a few moments to look over the man's appearance, I was pleased to note that the color had returned to his skin and there were no traces of pain on his features. He was carrying himself with ease and didn't seem dizzy or disoriented at all. There was a small spot of blood on his bandage but it hadn't soaked through the white material and the bleeding had stopped. 

Despite my weariness, I was filled with a flood of relief at seeing my Master regain his strength. It had been terrible to see him so weak. I couldn't stop the grin that swept over my face. "It's good to see that you're feeling better, Qui-Gon," I told him, making no attempt to mask my relief from my voice or our bond.

Qui-Gon smiled gently and lifted his hand to ruffle my hair softly. "The healing trance was very reenergizing. I am fine, Obi-Wan," he assured me and for a moment we shared a flow of affection through our bond. "You seem troubled, my Padawan," he said after the comfortable silence had run its course, "care to tell me what's wrong?"

I smiled ruefully. I couldn't keep anything from Qui-Gon. "Of course, Master," taking a deep breath to gather the remaining tatters of my energy, I began, "I have discovered that…" and then stopped short when I saw the expression on his face turn from completely attentive to distant and pensive.

A faint furrow appeared in his brow – invisible to someone who didn't know him well – and I could tell by the contemplative look in his suddenly concerned blue eyes that he was concentrating very deeply on something. Qui-Gon's hand slowly fell from my shoulder and, cocking his head slightly, he turned towards the ship's small exit in the back of the room.

Curious, I also looked towards the door, but saw nothing, and could not imagine the bearing of my Master's thoughts, or the foundation of the worry I could sense leaking through our bond. "Master?" I dared to question softly, feeling my tired senses very quickly revitalizing as I perceived that he sensed danger.

Qui-Gon glanced at me momentarily and then whispered, "Do you hear that?"

I frowned. What was he talking about now? All I could hear was the rain careening into the ship's hull and the howling wind that threatened to unearth the very ground it beat against. "Of course I hear the storm," I answered, "it hasn't let up at all since I regained consciousness."

He responded with an almost nonexistent shake of his head. "No…that tapping against the door?" Even as he spoke I could feel him reaching out to the Force, searching within it for any possible dangers or nearby threats.

The last five years had taught me to trust my Master's instincts – and his ears. If he said he heard something, then I believed him, especially since he seemed worried. Following his lead, I too opened myself to the Force and tried to gain a sense of why he was troubled. The serene touch of the Force against my mind dispelled of the last of my weary frustration, but I could feel nothing specifically wrong, just a general sense of disquietude that put me on alert.

Calm and immobile as I was, my ears tuned themselves into a noise I couldn't place as being part of the storm. Almost washed out by the thunderous rain and waves of wind, I could hear a faint sound coming from outside the ship. After a few more moments of concentration I knew that it wasn't the clattering of branches against the hull, or the battering of rain. It was the sound of metal against metal.

In a quick, decisive movement, Qui-Gon grabbed his lightsaber and drew it from his utility belt. Almost at the same moment, a wash of foreboding hit me through the Force, flooding me with the intensity of its warning. Boding apprehension claimed my heart in its tight fingers, making my chest ache and my entire body stiffen in response to the knowledge that we were in serious danger. 

Only a handful of seconds after Qui-Gon, I drew my own lightsaber and glanced to my Master. His stance was ready, prepared to take action, yet his emotions were calm – as always. He possessed a serenity that I still had trouble maintaining, especially when the Force was crying out with its shrill warning. I could sense nothing specific but my instincts told me that whoever had sabotaged the ship had come to finish the job.

Neither of us activated our weapons – we merely held them at the ready, poised to defend ourselves against this unnamed, impeding threat. Moving in tandem, we very quietly came to stand on either side of the small door that kept us from the raging storm outside. Qui-Gon was the one that leaned forward to press his ear against the cold metal. After listening for only a brief span of time, he looked at me seriously and gave a small nod, confirming what I already knew – that someone was out there.

There are six men, he reported quite calmly, but I cannot tell where they are.

A sudden, piercing clash against the metallic door caused the entire frame to tremble and sounded unrealistically loud in the tension filled air of the room. The noise startled me, worried and strained as I was due to the cold ominous fingers of the Force, and I couldn't stop my heart from leaping into my throat. Instinctively, I tensed up, started abruptly, and jumped back half a step.

In that fleeting moment of irrational fear, a stab of pain shot through my chest, and my throat closed up tightly, refusing to let me swallow. As soon as my instinctive reaction passed, I was left berating myself for letting myself get jumpy because of the mysterious situation. It would not do to be inordinately afraid. I was a Jedi, and as I had been taught to do, I would control these distracting emotions.

Without relinquishing any of my alertness, I took several deep breaths to help soothe my anxiety. Once I regained control of my breathing, the tightness in my chest lessened and I was able to release most of my fear into the Force. I was still worried of course, and a little unnerved by the situation, but it would not distract me.

Qui-Gon touched my mind mildly with his pride in me, but the moment was cut short by the resounding clatter of a forceful bang against the door. This time it was followed by another, equally echoing blow that fell after only a few seconds of silence. The shuddering pounding continued mercilessly, increasing both in strength and in speed until there was hardly any time between them.

The door was creaking loudly under the continued pressure of the assault and it was beginning to shake against the hinges and latches. Qui-Gon and I shared a grave look. They were trying to bring it down and judging from the dent that was already forming in the dull gray metal, we didn't have much time.

I spared a brief glance around the shuttle. The room was too small for us to fight in and we would be outnumbered, without any space to maneuver in, and basically trapped. We could not stand here waiting to be attacked. There was a functioning emergency exit just to the left of the pilot's chair in the cockpit. If we could get outside then we would have more room to defend ourselves in and, if we had to, we could escape into the forest.

Qui-Gon, my voice was quiet but held a note of urgency in it, we can leave the shuttle through the hatch in the cockpit.

My Master nodded, The ship may be surrounded, he warned me, make sure that you can't hear anything suspicious.

I nodded, Yes, Master, and turned to comply.

For almost a minute I crouched next to the emergency exit, keeping myself completely quiet in an attempt to hear something other than the storm and the pounding that emanated from the back room. As far as I could tell, no one was on this side of the ship – and if there was someone, he wasn't trying to knock in the door.

Master, I think it's clear, I informed him even as I clutched my lightsaber tightly in one hand and began unlocking the latches with the other. Although exiting the ship from here might give us an advantage if whoever was outside expected us to be trapped inside, I somehow knew that we would still have to defend ourselves.

Despite the storm and the slamming sound, I could clearly make out Qui-Gon's footsteps as he moved to join me. Knowing he was nearby, I moved to undo the last clasp that held the door in place. As my fingers were pulling against the cold metal latch, I could feel Qui-Gon reaching out to the Force and moments later was inundated by a flash of anxiety through our bond. 

The fastening fell from my hand, tumbling down onto the floor 

Obi-Wan! his voice sounded almost urgent and I was surprised into immobility, don't! he ordered, and the sheer emotion in his voice was enough to spur me into action.

Confused, but no less slow to react, I tried to hold the door in place, but I wasn't nearly strong enough. The entire thick sheet of metal that formed the removable door was torn from my grasp and hurled to the ground by a force far greater and controlled than the tempest. It had been a sudden, calculated burst of strength and I realized, with growing alarm, that someone had grabbed onto it and pulled it from the ship.

Peering into the dark fury of the storm, I tried to make out my foe, but all I could see was the unwavering gaze of two glowing yellow eyes. The bright gold was almost reflective, a band of fierce color surrounding the bottomless black pupils, and carved straight through the darkness, and me. My heart clenched in my chest, seeming to beat in time with the battering against the back door. The cold unblinking stare filled me with a turgid fear that spread to consume my body. 

Shivering, I blinked once to ease the ache, and when I opened my eyes, the yellow eyes were gone and only the howling night greeted my stare. As if the person had been blocking the entrance, the frigid fingers of the storm rushed forth to envelop me in a tempest of fury. A ferocious gust of wind, crying out its warning, swept through the open door and sent a flood of rain to soak my clothes and cover my skin in a grimy layer of dripping mud. Biter cold water was sent splattering onto my face and the freezing shock forced my eyes closed.

The Force cried out so urgently that it had me jerking back from the entrance and flicking the switch that would ignite my lightsaber. Opening my eyes, I watched the blue beam of light buzz up from the hilt and halfway illuminate the darkness beyond the door. In the dimness I could make out the shadowed figure of someone crouching low to the ground.

I quickly extended my blade and took a defensive stance. Master? I called for help, but received no answer and was filled with the sinking feeling that he was otherwise occupied.

Strong, claw like fingers latched onto my ankle, digging sharp nails into my flesh and rubbing the coarse material of my leggings against my skin. I jumped automatically and my stomach seemed to leap up into my throat, making my breath catch in response to the sudden attack. Pressing tightly into me, the hand held me in a vice grip with a tremendous strength that had tentacles of pain shooting up my leg.

Reacting without any clear thought, I yanked my leg backwards in an attempt to break away from the icy grip. It was almost as if I hadn't resisted at all – the hand didn't even budge, it only tightened its hold, and sunk sharpened nails further into my flesh, tearing it. Cold trails of blood tickled at my skin, flowing over my foot and I flinched at the stinging pain.

Colors mixed and flowed in a rapid jumble when the person brutally pulled me forward with a fierce strength that had me precariously toppling in the doorway until I completely lost my balance and toppled backward in a flurry of speed and movement. 

The lightsaber slipped from my grasp. With flaying hands I tried to grab onto the sides of the door and hold myself up, but even as I did so I realized I was being drawn, by the ever-tightening grip, through the hatch and into the violent night. Instead of anything I could use to my benefit, I found myself clutching at the pummeling rain.

The dark world spun rapidly in dizzying circles around me as the person gave one final heave and released me, sending me flying through the freezing air. I reached out to the Force, calling it around me to ease my fall, but I wasn't fast enough and seconds later I hit the ground and sank down into the slimy mud that the rain had created. 

Iced droplets of water were pounding into me and the wind seemed to be blowing down into me with all the force of a thousand howling wolves. Pushing my hands against the ground, I attempted to scramble to my feet, but my fingers only sank further into the earth and the mud swarmed to cover me more deeply. I was wading in a pool of mud and as I descended slowly into its enveloping claws, the shock of its freezing tentacles began to settle in. My clothes were saturated with the thick muck and my limbs were beginning to go numb. 

Yellow eyes suddenly appeared in the darkness, staring down at me coldly. Seconds later a large hand with six fingers and long hooked nails that were stained red with my blood, grabbed onto the fabric of my shirt. The persistent claws sank into my chest and the animal-like man used that leverage to draw me up with one, powerful tug. The movement tore my skin in six burning places where nail met flesh and frantically I scrambled to regain my footing as the person held me upright against the harshness of the storm.

Another arm shot out of the night, propelling the gleaming edge of a knife and holding the fangs of the blade against the flesh of my neck, rapidly stilling my movements. Then the hand on my chest withdrew and I found myself being twisted about so that one strong arm kept my back pinned against the person's body, and the other remained holding the dagger against me.

I had to forcibly prevent myself from struggling against my captor. I knew that he was much stronger than me and that any abrupt movements could send the blade on a course that would end my life. I relaxed and kept myself limp. It would be futile to fight and it was best to retain my strength for a moment when I could escape.

In two large strides my captor moved so that we were both facing the opening in the shuttle where I saw that Qui-Gon was carefully creeping forward into the night, obviously trying to sneak up and free me. Although determined, he seemed to be wavering slightly on his feet, and I wondered what had hindered him during my struggle.

The brutal stiletto suddenly bored deeper into my neck and roughly cut off the passage of air through my trachea, slicing neatly into my skin. Silent seconds ticked by and my lungs began to sting as I tried and failed to gasp air into them. The edge of the blade went deep enough that I could feel the pulse of my heart as it beat against the cool metal. "Surrender," a harsh, loud voice boomed over the wrath of the storm, causing the man's chest to vibrate as he spoke, "or I will kill him."

TBC… (on Wednesday)


	4. Tauntingly Familiar

Hi everyone! Thanks **_so_** much for the FB, I really appreciate it and I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying the story. =D I like reading your reviews, especially since I'm hardly getting any FB at all on the other places where I post this. It's nice to know people are reading.  BTW – sparinta, thanks for catching the "drying" typo, I can't believe I missed that!  I fixed it!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Four: Tauntingly Familiar ~

**Obi-Wan:**

Pain expanded in my chest as I began to grow lightheaded. My lungs felt burningly empty and my heart pounded in sheer agony. My head thudded, causing my vision to swim, and I knew that if the man didn't release me, I would soon pass out. Through hazing eyes I struggled to make out my Master's form. Qui-Gon, with soaked and dripping hair, had frozen in place and was staring at my captor with what I shockingly realized was fright. Fright for my life.

Through the rain I heard loud footsteps approaching from the other side of the ship and squinted to see two people, just as large and imposing as the one who held me, emerge from the darkness. I could not see them very clearly but I knew, by the angle of their glowing yellow stares, that they were poised to jump Qui-Gon, and that my Master had seen them. Normally he would have moved – prepared to defend himself – but now he stayed completely still, and I could sense that he feared one false move would end my life.

"Release him," Qui-Gon commanded with a wave of his hand, imbuing his voice with a touch of the Force.

A bitter laugh sparked fear deep within me, "Save your tricks, Master Jinn, they will not save your apprentice," if possible, the blade dug further into my skin and I could now feel my own blood coating my flesh, running in cool tracks down my body with the rushing rain. "Surrender, or I will cut his throat and you can watch him die."

My own fright at realizing that he was Force-immune barely registered in my mind as the world began to swim in rippling waves around me. Through our bond I could feel Qui-Gon's stab of worry and I knew that although he was not one to easily give in, he would never endanger my life.

Qui-Gon would surrender, would let them capture us both in order to save my life. These people had to be responsible for the sabotage. How else would they know who we were and why else would they be attacking us? They wanted us dead. Once they captured him, they would kill us both anyway. There was no reason for him to sacrifice himself needlessly. I couldn't let him die for me.

Go, Qui-Gon, I urged him, fighting off the darkness in hopes of staying conscious just a few moments longer, Leave me.

My Master shook his head firmly, Never, his voice brooked no room for argument.

The emptiness in my chest was unbearable now and obscurity even thicker than that of the storm was rapidly encroaching upon my mind. I could barely think, but I refused to give in. Please, I pleaded softly, don't let yourself be captured as well, they'll only kill us both. Some part of me knew that Qui-Gon was too stubborn to back down once he had made up his mind, but I couldn't condemn him to this senseless death as well, couldn't die knowing that. Go!

When he didn't answer, I knew I had failed. Qui-Gon raised his hands and made an acquiescing gesture of surrender. When two of my captor's comrades stepped forward on either side of him, he stared straight into my eyes and allowed them each to take one of his arms and pull it back behind him. Holding him tightly in a grip that had to be painful, they forced him to kneel and one of them deftly bound his hands with electro cuffs that shown brightly in the night.

My Master turned his unwavering gaze to the man that held me, "Release him," his voice was firm, betraying none of his emotions, but when he spoke them I could feel the uncertainty that filled him. He was worried, worried that they would kill me anyway. I was worried that they would kill the both of us, that my Master's unwillingness to leave me would end his life. It was a thought I could barely manage to finish, even in the silence of my own mind.

My captor sneered, his hand pulsing hotly against my smothered skin, but after a few moments of purposefully painfully stressing moments, he drew the tip of the blade out from my skin and slowly withdrew his hand.

Sagging forward, I forced down gulped mouthfuls of air through my constricted throat. My frantic, heaving, inhalations battled the clattering rain with the loud sound of rasping as air flowed through me in massive quantities. After filling my abused lungs with oxygen several times, the stinging lessened but I continued to breathe deeply, reveling in the simple sensation of my rising and falling chest.

It was only when the pain calmed and my heartbeat leveled off to a normal pace, that I realized my captor had taken hold of my arms and was pinning them together in back of me, thus straining the muscles of my shoulders and holding me immobile.

Sadly catching and holding Qui-Gon's gaze, I shook my head gravely. Despite my undeniable gratitude towards this man who was both my teacher and friend, I rebuked him softly, You should have gone, you should have left me.

I could not let him kill you, he responded, voice equally as severe, the guilt would have torn me apart. The relief was palpable both in his tone and through our bond. He had truly been _scared_ that they would have killed me if he had fought or ran. I knew that he was right, that these people were after our lives, but it was astonishing to feel that emotion in him when usually he was able to control such feelings.

I closed my eyes against the flood of caring that welled up deep within me. I would always be humbled by this man's sense of honor and loyalty, by his willingness to make such sacrifices for me, but I couldn't banish the fear from my mind that told me we did not have long to live. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Our cell, if you could call it that, was smaller than an escape pod and more like a rectangular box. Widthwise, it only extended about an inch on either side of my Master's shoulders, which made extensive movements impossible. I, being much smaller and more compact than Qui-Gon, would have had enough room to lie down – had I been alone – but as it was, all we could do was sit, facing each other, with very little space in back of or between us.

The moon, revealed for several instants by the brief parting of the thickened clouds that blanketed the sky, had shone a flash of light upon one of our captors, allowing the glimpse Qui-Gon and I needed to identify the species. They were indigenous of Tarcalia, a world with brutal weather conditions and ferocious wild animals. Having adapted for survival, Tarcalians were large – almost eight feet tall – and built for power. A thick coat of fur covered most of their body, giving them the appearance of humanoid bears. Their sharp, gleaming fangs and their long hooked nails, which were more like claws, made them dangerous, fierce fighters. That, and their powerful nocturnal vision, heightened sense of smell, and amazing speed, explained why they had survived on such a harsh planet.

Qui-Gon had hoped that our captors would let their guard down while they brought us here, but escape had been impossible. Registering little notable worry, he, of course, had easily slipped into a meditative trance. I had immediately set upon trying to find a way out of this cell. I was very surprised that our captors hadn't killed us right away and planned on escaping before they had another chance. Try as I might, however, I could not even manage to make the ceiling, which had sealed just a few inches over Qui-Gon's hair, budge. I had pushed against it and tried to use the Force to weaken it, but had accomplished nothing.

Finally giving up, I had settled back and tried to meditate. I was having a little – or rather, a lot – more trouble than my Master. I simply could not stop fidgeting, or keep my mind from racing. It frustrated me to be caught here, unarmed and helpless, waiting for the Tarcalians to come back and finish off what they had started when they sabotaged the ship. 

The clattering of rain against the metallic box resonated and echoed distractingly, and the box trembled in the wrath of the wind. I couldn't hear the Tarcalians over the storm, but I knew they were out there, and the thought made me even more nervous. I couldn't just sit here without doing _something_.

Sighing again, I opened my eyes and looked around the small cell for something I had missed, something we could use to escape. Perhaps there was another entrance other than the ceiling; maybe one of the walls was removable…

"Don't waste your strength," Qui-Gon spoke softly, opening his eyes to gaze at me sternly, the rebuke for my impatience evident in his voice and stare.

Bowing my head in apology, I said, "Forgive me for disturbing you, Master, but we need to escape before they return."

Qui-Gon smiled faintly, "This is a Tarcalian Ice Box, Obi-Wan. Escape without outside help is impossible. It is built from Sacrillian metal, which even a lightsaber cannot cut through, and is Force-immune. Completely resistant to weather, it repels heat and absorbs the cold, filtering it in so that the interior slowly becomes unbearable to its occupants."

I frowned; Qui-Gon was just now informing me of this little piece of information? "You let me search for a way to escape for nearly a half hour when all along you knew I would find nothing?" I questioned incredulously, "Why didn't you tell me in the beginning?"

"I was hoping that after trying to escape you would curb your impatience and meditate, or at least relax and wait. You have learned much, but you're still unable to wait when the situation offers no other options," Qui-Gon spoke sternly, but also very gently. Whenever he reproached me he never made his intention to teach by causing hurt – he was always candid yet kind.

His words did not sting – I knew that I had come a long way and that I had earned both Qui-Gon's trust and friendship, and indeed I appreciated his kindly offered criticism for I knew it would only serve to help me improve – but I did find myself extremely embarrassed. He was right, again. I _was_ too quick to act and too slow to accept it when I realized there was nothing I could do. Despite all of Qui-Gon's lessons, despite the fact that I knew he was correct, I still frequently succumbed to my impatience.

The heat of a blush touched my cheeks and I ducked my head, feeling the tinge of shame hang over my heart. My Master had been testing me – seeing if I would realize the futility of my actions without his interference – and I had failed. "I am sorry, Master," forcing myself to meet his eyes, which held his infinite patience, I continued contritely, "I know I should have improved in this area by now."

My Master shook his head and extended his arm to tug on my braid gently, "Don't be sorry, Obi-Wan. Everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses. You never fail as long as you learn and improve. You will conquer your impatience…with time."

I smiled. There it was again, his understanding when instructing me, never directing a note of impatience or anger towards me. It was one of the many reasons I respected him so deeply. "Thank you, Master…" I said, and then, hesitantly, I touched his hand, which still lingered at my braid, "Thank you, for everything." I was thanking him for not leaving me, and he understood that although, for his own safety, I had wanted him to go, I was glad that I wasn't alone.

He merely smiled and nodded, not needing to say anything more.

Silence lapsed between us in which my Master returned to meditating and I considered our captors' motives and intentions. If before I had been confused as to who wanted to kill us and why, now I was even more so. Why did a group of _Tarcalians_ want us dead? Were they related to our last mission, or this mission? Neither seemed likely, considering their species had no interest in either planet. 

Tarcalians were ruthless and distrusted. After an incident on Morraca Crine where a visiting Tarcalian had gone "hunting" and killed several fellow tourists, they had become unwelcome on virtually every planet in the Republic. Some governments had even gone as far as to make their presence illegal. This knowledge did not set my mind at ease. 

I shivered and rubbed my hands over the wet sleeves that covered my arms. The air was a cold touch against my skin and my wet, mud-caked tunics, just now beginning to dry, were like ice. It was even more freezing than it was outside, and now that Qui-Gon had told me about this "Tarcalian Ice Box" I knew that it wasn't just my imagination and that it really was getting colder. 

The fear which had been firmly lodged within me since our capture began to grow as I realized a possible reason that the Tarcalians hadn't killed us yet. Perhaps they were intending to take a less direct route, perhaps the Tarcalians meant to leave us in here until the temperature became unbearable and we died…

"Obi-Wan," I looked up to find Qui-Gon's eyes fastened to my own. "An opportunity will present itself," his voice was reassuring and I knew he had sensed my emotions.

I tried to keep my tone light but my words had a frustrated seriousness to them and were tinged by my fear, "Will that be before or after we become one with the Force?"

Qui-Gon gazed at me thoughtfully before speaking again, "You seem certain that they will kill us." It wasn't a question.

I nodded, "Yes."

He frowned and I could sense he was slightly confused by this, "Why?"

For a moment I stared at him in disbelief, but then I remembered that I had never told him about the sabotage – we had been interrupted. Hoping he would have the insight he usually managed to possess, I filled my Master in on what I had found when I had examined the ship and on my theories, lacking as they were, as to who might have been responsible.

Qui-Gon intertwined his fingers and leaned back against the wall of the cell, his expression thoughtful. I waited, as patiently as I could, as I sensed him sifting through the information I had given him, coming up with his own conclusions. Which apparently he wasn't going to share with me, seeing as how he wasn't saying anything.

I was about to question my Master regarding his thoughts but stopped short when I felt him using our bond to draw me into a type of meditation I had never been taught before. It was strange, very different from what I was used to, because instead of focusing our thoughts inward, my Master was extending us outward. 

Master? I sent to him, What are you doing?

Finding some of the answers you are so eager for, he responded.

I frowned, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Since when had Qui-Gon picked up Yoda's annoying ability to code everything he said in cryptic overtones? What…?

Hush, Obi-Wan, he interrupted, and listen.

Silencing my curiosity, I quieted my thoughts and did as my Master bid. It was then that I realized Qui-Gon had established a connection to the Force much deeper than I could normally achieve. It was very similar, thought not quite as powerful, to my amazing experience with it during the crash, but there was no visual component to it. It was solely auditory. 

Through my Master, I could hear not only the storm much more clearly, but also the other sounds that had before been washed out by it. The sounds were heard more in our minds than in our ears, and I realized that Qui-Gon was using an ability known as Forced-enhanced hearing to spy on our captors.

"What do you want us to do with the shuttle?" someone was asking, and I immediately realized it was the man who had captured me.

"Leave it there," a thick voice with an echoing crackle answered, sounding as familiar to me as it did sinister. There was something about the way the words were uttered that filled me with a very real sense of inexplicable fear, and sent a shiver down my spine, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise in warning.

"You know that they will examine it," he spoke it as a warning, but I could sense that it had no real concern behind it. Almost as if the Tarcalian had no true interest in the affair, which was strange considering they were behind the sabotage and our capture.

A particularly loud roar of sudden thunder resonated through the small cell just in time to mix with the cackling laughter that the remark produced. "I'm counting on it." This time the words were accompanied by the telltale hiss that could only be that of a long distance communication, telling me that the person the Tarcalian was speaking with was not present. 

Again, the voice sounded intriguingly familiar to me. I could not place it as that of someone I knew well, or had even dealt with more than infrequently, but I knew that I had spoken to this person, and recently. It seemed like the answer was just within my sight, yet I could not grasp it.

"And once they examine it," he continued, his sneering voice taunting me cruelly as I struggled to put a name to it, "the ever-intelligent Jedi will know that it was sabotaged, which is exactly what I want." The word "Jedi" was spoken in pure malice, with such hate behind it that it ignited a mild pain within my heart.

The few moments of silence only served to heighten the tension that had filled my body upon hearing each word that was spoken, and the following almost giddy proclamation made my skin crawl. "They will find the sabotage, but won't know who to blame. Then, as they fall victim to each of my schemes, they will wonder and guess as to who is behind it all, but only at the last moment, only when it is too late, will they know I am the one responsible."

The man speaking hated us. Hated us with a fury that seemed to swarm through the Force and attack my mind. That loathing was so powerful that it tinted his words with a touch of insanity. These negative emotions that clenched at my heart and embittered the waves of the Force were directed solely at Qui-Gon and myself, and that knowledge nearly made me tremble. We were trapped, helpless, in this cage, at the mercy of the Tarcalians and this man who sounded all too eager to make my Master and I suffer. 

It was as clear to the Tarcalian as it was to me, for the silence that followed told me he was unnerved by whom he was speaking with. "Do what you will," he finally answered, "it is of no concern to me. My men and I will do as you say and be finished by the break of day. When will you deliver the rest of our payment?"

"It is already waiting for you onboard your ship, along with an extra surprise to…thank you for your work," the response was spoken with an impatience so familiar it haunted me, and although the Tarcalian seemed to accept this, I knew this 'surprise' was not something pleasant.

"Very well then," my captor answered, "we will return to the ship when we are done here – do not expect to hear from me again unless something goes wrong."

"See that it doesn't," came the torrid reply, which was followed by a high pitched click that signified the end of the conversation.

No further words were spoken, and had it not been for the ever-constant sound of the storm – the sweeping winds and billowing rain – complete silence would have ensued. The words exchanged left my soul as chilled as my body was. They filled me with such a feeling of foreboding – an ominous beast that was hunting me, just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce and devour – that it took me a few moments to calm my fear, and even then it was still there, a nagging presence I could not ignore.

Swiftly, almost abruptly, Qui-Gon snapped the meditation and withdrew from our bond until we were connected at our normal level once again. For a brief moment, before he could fully erect his shields, I sensed a flash of disorienting pain emanating from him and was immediately filled with worry for his health. Perhaps his wound had not healed as well as I had thought.

Opening my eyes, I studied my Master's face. His skin was slightly pale and his breathing was irregular, almost erratic, but his expression seemed more one of exhaustion rather than extreme pain. "Qui-Gon?" I whispered, leaning forward to gently touch his head, probing for any unusually harsh instinctive reaction to discomfort.

My Master opened his eyes and smiled shakily, but his eyes were a little hazed. "I'll be all right, Obi-Wan," he assured me, removing my hand from his forehead and intertwining our fingers, "I underestimated how much energy it would take to do that, and I'm rather drained and a little dizzy, that's all."

I stared at him for a few long moments, worried that there was something more that he wasn't telling me. Perhaps he didn't want to burden me with concern for his wellbeing when we were trapped in a cage with no conceivable way out that did not involve our captors forcibly removing us. However, just as he had once told me to never keep anything from him for concern that it would distract him during a mission, I wished he would not try to protect me in that way. I, however, knew Qui-Gon very well, and realized that he would not tell me if he had made up his mind not to.

Squeezing his hand, I remained silent, considering what we had heard. The brief exchange between the Tarcalian and the other man clearly proved that the former had been hired by the latter and had no involvement past collecting money for an assigned task. That cleared up some of my previous confusion, but I was still left wondering who this man was. It seemed obvious that he was the one behind both the sabotage and our capture, but what were his motives and why did he hate us?

From what he had said, it was obvious that this was not all he had planned for my Master and me. This suggested that he was either on this planet, or on his way here to carry out whatever his 'schemes' were. Apparently the Tarcalians would be through with us by the following morning, and although I could clearly sense that the man responsible for all of this wanted us dead, I knew they would not be the ones to do it. Perhaps, besides completing whatever task had been mentioned, they meant only to hold us here for the man to do with as he pleased.

Our mission here was to negotiate a treaty between the Marynes and the Sarocks. The two humanoid tribes had been at war for centuries before they had finally been able to settle their differences and work together. Eventually they had developed a unified government ruled together by a Maryne Director and a Sarock Director. For the last three hundred years the two peoples had coexisted peacefully, developing a trust that many thought would never be achieved.

Now a dispute between the two Directors threatened to return them to the path of violence. The Council had been extremely vague on exactly what the problem was, but the two Directors had both requested Jedi assistance in hopes of settling the matter. Perhaps this man did not want the two Directors to sign a new treaty. It was plausible, but that would not explain why he clearly despised us so much. 

"I doubt that this is related to our mission here, Padawan," Qui-Gon spoke with his usual insight into my thoughts, "I feel that the man behind this has a much more personal vendetta with us, or perhaps the Jedi in general. I am sure you sensed his hatred – it was that of a man scorned. Other than using this opportunity to try and kill us, this has little to do with the situation between the Marynes and the Sarocks."

Wearily, I rubbed my temples. Qui-Gon was always able to take things in stride and forever seemed to be at least ten bounds ahead of me in his reasoning. I swear I spent half the time during our missions scrambling to catch up with his leaps in thought and his awareness of what was going on. "How do you know?"

My Master eyed me as he spoke, "I can feel it in the Force. However, I still have no idea who this person is, or what his motives are." Somehow I had the feeling that he was trying to make me feel better about not always feeling or knowing the same things he did.

"I do not understand," I began slowly, seeking to change the subject, "how that man expected us to survive the crash. He obviously has…much more planned for us – he even hired the Tarcalians to capture us – but we barely managed to land in one piece. His 'schemes' would have been caught short had he not been able to carry the rest of them out."

Qui-Gon smiled and by the glint in his eyes I knew he had seen something that I hadn't – which was usually the case. "Did you notice that the two systems on the shuttle that were left functioning were the ones we _had_ to have in order to crash land?"

I sighed; I didn't quite understand what he was getting at. "You forget that we both would have died if it hadn't been for the Force. It we had not been Jedi, the shuttle would have been destroyed in the storm, even with those systems." 

"But he knows that we are Jedi – the Tarcalian knew my name when we were captured," he added pointedly, "That could have been taken into account when tampering with the vessel. If he knows our capabilities, he would know that we could use the Force to land."

Who would know that about the Jedi? Who would take the risk of being wrong about our abilities? I had never been so connected to the Force – if I hadn't managed to achieve that, we _would_ have died and the rest of this person's plan would have been ruined. To be so sure that we would survive, he would have to know more about us than I cared to admit.

I shook my head and closed my eyes. There was nothing that frustrated me more than being so powerless but I could not let my fear rise up again, for it would only turn to irritation and then anger. Those emotions would only cloud my judgment. There was, indeed, just cause to be afraid, but as a Jedi I knew that I should not fear death. Whether or not the Tarcalians had been instructed to hold us until our real assailant could kill us, I had to be ready to accept death, and ready to escape. Such was what I had been taught. 

My Master, of course, sensed the change in me, "Good," he praised, "keep that in mind instead of dwelling on your anxieties. It will help with the _waiting_ that you find so difficult." His tone was teasing and I smiled slightly.

Grateful for the chance to lighten our situation, I grinned, and giving my best attempt at imitating my Master, said, "In other words, we must keep our focus on the here and now, Padawan."

Qui-Gon laughed and tugged on my braid, "Well," he said teasingly, "at least I know you pay attention to me."

TBC…(on Saturday)


	5. Inexplicable Collapse

Thanks for the FB everyone and thanks for reading! =D  Here's the next part, enjoy!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Five: Inexplicable Collapse ~

**Obi-Wan:**

The temperature had dropped substantially during the course of our conversation and even though I tried to ignore it and meditate, I could not. I was freezing. My skin was covered in large goose bumps, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end, and my teeth were chattering. My fingers, swollen and colored slightly red-blue, were stiff and ached in protest when I clenched them into fists to help keep them warm. The very air I breathed was a foggy white when I exhaled, and the water in my tunics was frigid enough to feel like icicles.

Wrapping my arms around myself for warmth, I tried rocking back and forth slightly, but it was to no avail. Meditation would help, but I couldn't concentrate enough to initiate it. If we weren't released from this "Ice Box" soon, I was afraid that I'd suffer hypothermia. If I entered such a state, I wouldn't be able to help Qui-Gon escape should the opportunity arise.

I jumped slightly when I felt the coarse touch of something being draped over my shoulders. Opening my eyes, I saw that Qui-Gon had removed his outer cloak and was in the process of wrapping it around my huddled body, tenderly smoothing it over me. "It's wet on the outside," he whispered, "but a Master's robes are thicker than a Padawan's, and the water didn't completely soak it."

He cupped my cheek, "It will keep you warm for a little while," he smiled, and then returned to his position across from me as calmly as if he had just given me a cover on a cold night, as opposed to warmth that he needed as badly as I did.

I shook my head, "Qui-Gon, no. I can't accept this." His unwillingness to leave me behind had landed him here, but I wouldn't let him selflessly sacrifice what would keep him conscious. Relishing the warmth for only a few seconds, I quickly shrugged the robe off of me and attempted to hand it back to Qui-Gon, who calmly bore a look that plainly told me in no uncertain terms that I could hold it out to him for the rest of time and yet he still would not withdraw his offer. 

"When the Tarcalian threatened to kill you, Padawan," he spoke so softly I could barely hear him, "I couldn't tell if he was bluffing, and that scared me. I did not let them capture me in order to watch you freeze."

A flood of emotions thrummed within me, manifesting as a tender ache in my heart that expanded to make my throat tighten and my breath catch. However, as much as I was grateful to Qui-Gon for what he was trying to do, I couldn't let him. Before, when the Tarcalian had held me helpless, there was little I could do. Now that I could act, I would not accept this. "I do not wish to watch you freeze either, Master."

Qui-Gon still made no move to take the robe back from me, so I let it drop between us, its warm folds of material going unused against the cold metal floor. It was silly for neither of us to take it, but I was determined that my Master _would_ use it to preserve his warmth. He was the most skilled; it made sense for him to retain the most strength.

My Master stared at me intensely, his stubbornness shinning as clearly in his eyes as I was sure it did in mine. He was very bullheaded when he had made up his mind, and having been trained by him for five years, I had picked up the same trait. The result was a stalemate in which neither of us was willing to back down.

Finally, Qui-Gon laughed softly and moved as far back in the cage as he could. Then he shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged and extended his arms to me. "Come here, Padawan," he ordered, "Our combined body heat should keep us both warm for the time being."

Hesitating only momentarily, I scooted forward and crept onto my Master's lap. Then I turned around so that my back was tucked against his chest and my head was resting just under his chin. After letting me adjust my position for a few seconds, Qui-Gon closed his arms around me and drew the robe forward, spreading it out over the both of us.

Clutching the material tightly in my fisted hands, I felt the stiffness ease a little in response to the heat. Slowly, the chill that had settled over me receded. It was still cold, and I knew it would get worse, but the caring I felt in the way my Master protectively held me was enough to make me feel better and temporarily melt away any worries that I would freeze to death.

Through our bond I could feel my Master's concern for me, as well as a deep caring and peace at holding me this way. Basking in the sensation, I drew those emotions into me and sent him my own in return. Despite our current situation, I felt inexplicably safe in Qui-Gon's warm embrace, and for the first time since the crash, I let myself completely relax, sinking back comfortably against him. "Thank you, Master," I murmured softly, allowing myself to close my eyes and rest.

He responded by pressing a gentle kiss to my hair, and tightening his arms. Simultaneously, through our bond, he drew me into a shared meditation in which his own deep serenity and connection to the Force helped me enter a completely calm state that I usually only achieved when he allowed me to do this, but had briefly touched when landing the shuttle.

With a smile, I drifted into the tranquil waters of meditation as Qui-Gon soothingly rubbed my chest in slow circles.

~~~~~~~~~~

"You have to evacuate the building," I told the Directors urgently, "Now." When neither of them moved to comply, I yelled, "If we don't get everyone out of here before the bomb blows, 500 people could _die_!"

Both men hurried out of their office.

I turned to follow them but before I could even take one step, a hateful voice filled my mind with its sneering words, "You're too late to save your precious Master, Obi-Wan," it taunted gleefully, "but you're just in time to watch him die."

Oh, Force. The bomb wasn't in the Directors' Complex; it was in the hotel where I had left Qui-Gon! Horrified, I leapt back to the window from which I could see my Master standing in our suite, still staring up in my direction.

Glancing down at the timer, I felt my stomach leap up into my throat. The bold red digits of the device proudly displayed that only ten seconds remained before it would hit zero. That wasn't enough time! 

I was suddenly filled with a palpitating fear that sent a sharp pain cascading across my chest and made my heart pound. Clenching talons of terror clawed at my body, making everything ache. A wash of frigid pain ran down me and I began to tremble in dread. "Qui-Gon," I managed to whisper urgently, barely able to wrench the name from my dry and tight throat, "run…"

The timer in my hand beeped loudly, flashing the number zero. 

"No!" I screamed, transfixed in position as I watched a ball of flame envelop the window where Qui-Gon had been standing, sending shards of concrete and broken glass falling from the fancy hotel. Among the flying ruble was my Master's body, burned, charred, and utterly lifeless.

"Qui-Gon!" I yelled, and senselessly began pounding the windowpane with my fists, breaking it with the strength of my grief. Fractured glass exploded to cover the floor, knocking down the red timepiece that had been sitting on the sill. With a shattering crash it landed on the floor, stopping the counting of time at exactly twelve noon. Next to it was my broken wristband.

Drowning out all other sounds, even the sizzling of the flames that had cloaked the hotel and my gasped inhalations of breath, the same livid voice continued to speak, "Jedi are bound by their traditions and their rules. A Jedi may not feel fear, a Jedi may not feel hatred, a Jedi may not even feel _love_. You so called 'Guardians of Peace' are trapped in a life of loneliness and now I will put your Master out of his misery forever."

Heedless of my surroundings, heedless of everything, I continued to hit what was now a wall of nothingness until my hands were caught and held in an invisible grip that was firm but painless.

Struggling madly against it, I twisted my arms and hands around frantically in the air, all the while whispering, "No, no, no…," as I fruitlessly attempted to break free from the persistent hold, which was now increasing in strength and sending sparks throbbing up my arms.

"Let me go!" I screamed at my invisible foe, thrashing frenetically

Abruptly, the world went completely dark around me and I couldn't see anything at all. The debris and the snide voice disappeared, but the restraining grasp remained and I continued to fight with all the strength of my anguish.

A flash of insight told me that my eyes were closed so I snapped them open, coughing harshly as I inadvertently gagged on a gasped breath of air. Bright light blinded my vision, stinging at my eyes for a few moments until I became accustomed to it. My heart thudded viciously against my chest and my rapid breathing overwhelmed my ears, distracting me enough so that I didn't immediately realize where I was and continued to try and pull my hands free.

Finally, the image of Qui-Gon's concerned face broke through my hysteria and I froze as disbelief battled with realization. I wasn't in an office…I was sitting in my Master's lap and it was he who held my wrists in a vice-grip. It had been a dream.

"M-Master?" I questioned timidly, my heart still pumping fear into my veins.

"Yes, Padawan," my Master's voice was gentle, soothing, and I felt a flood of reassurance through our bond, "it's all right, my young friend, I'm right here." Then he released my hands and instead pulled me forward so that my head was resting against his chest. Stroking my hair softly, he continued to murmur, "It's all right," while I struggled to compose myself.

Forcibly, I calmed my breathing until my heart rate slowly dropped off to normal and the fear drained from my tense body. Letting out a sigh that was almost a sob, I let the trepidation leave me and relaxed into his arms. It had been a dream. It had seemed so real, but it had only been a dream.

I let my eyes drift shut and I shook my head. I had let my fear rule my actions, again. My cheeks burned with my blush as embarrassment quickly replaced my panic. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, shamed, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Qui-Gon released my hands and smiled, "No, my Padawan, you didn't hurt me. Your screaming woke me up and your fear flooded me through our bond, but I managed to fend off your maniacal attack _before_ you pounded your way through my chest. "

It had been his chest I had pounded against! I knew that he was joking but his words only served to heighten my humiliation at having been so caught up in a dream – again. I was eighteen; I wasn't supposed to wake up screaming from nightmares anymore. "Master…"

Gentle lips pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "Shh," he silenced, "you cannot control your nightmares, there's no reason to be ashamed."

It wasn't my nightmare I was ashamed of, it was my reaction to it. It was the fear that I hadn't been able to control that disgraced me. Qui-Gon never woke up screaming from a nightmare. Qui-Gon never let his fear control him. Would I ever be like him?

Although unconvinced, I nodded and pulled back until I was sitting just in front of him, instead of in his lap. It was then that I noticed we were no longer in the Ice Box. Qui-Gon and I were sitting in the middle of a clearing in the forest. The storm had finally ended and the warmth and light of a welcoming sun made it a surprisingly beautiful day.

The storm had knocked down more than a few trees and those that still stood had lost many of their leaves to the rampaging winds. Green, orange, and red leaves covered the forest ground and the patches of dark green grass showing through here and there made it look like a sea of intermingling colors. Water – covering every tree, plant, leaf, and flower with tiny droplets and rippling pools – made everything glisten and reflect the golden rays of sunlight that bathed the landscape. It truly was a wondrous sight.

Turning slightly to look at all our surroundings, I let out a small gasp. The fallen trees that dotted the forest, displaying broken, splintered wood and unearthed roots, had been struck down by natural forces, but to either side of us was a corridor that ran through clearing and ensuing trees, several meters wide, that was anything but a result of the storm. The trees, indeed even the very grass, had been smashed to the ground and were utterly destroyed. On one end the strip led to the base of a small cliff, and in the other direction, in the far distance, I could see…our shuttle. It was the destruction path our crash had created.

Doing a double take, I once again looked all around us. Where were the Tarcalians? Where was the Ice Box? What had happened? Before the dream, the last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the cell, waiting for the Tarcalians to do the saboteur's biding. There was no sign that we had ever been held prisoner. Had Qui-Gon somehow miraculously escaped while I was asleep and set me free as well? 

"Qui-Gon," I voiced my uncertainty with ample measures of sarcasm, "I know that you're an extremely talented Jedi but I was unaware of your ability to fight off six Tarcalians while sleeping. One day you'll have to teach me how you did it."

He shot me a falsely withering look that was betrayed by the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Actually, Padawan mine, I am quite certain that it was your renown appetite that scared them away – they must have been afraid that you'd wake up, eat your way out of the Ice Box, and then come after them. After all, you eat more than a grown Frelock does after four months of hibernation."

Force, he always teased me about my appetite, but I didn't eat _that_ much. As a young man I needed large amounts of…nourishment, did he expect me to starve? I sent a mock glare my Master's way before turning the conversation more serious. "So…what happened? Why did they let us go?"

Qui-Gon looked pensive, "Why, indeed."

I immediately sensed when his attention turned to the Force and didn't answer, allowing him to find his center and try to get some answers to our questions. When he was finished he touched my arm lightly and gestured to the ground around us. "Look, Obi-Wan. The left us exactly where the Ice Box was."

Looking closely, I realized he was right. The leaves in the area immediately surrounding us were smashed into the mud and the dirt level was at least two inches lower than the rest of the clearing. They had placed the Ice Box here and it had formed an impression in the mud that remained upon its removal.

A few feet away, a metallic gleam, obscured by leaves and mud, caught my eye. Intrigued, I reached forward and brushed aside the grime and muck, to reveal…our lightsabers. In disbelief, I dug my fingers further into the soft ground and urged the two cylindrical shaped objects up.

"Curious," Qui-Gon murmured, taking his weapon from me, "very curious."

I agreed, but said nothing. Instead I closely examined the hilt of my weapon, searching for any signs of tampering. Instead I found that, despite the filth that marred its surface, it seemed in perfect working order. There was no reason for it not to function. 

"The Tarcalians released us under the orders of the man truly responsible for all of this, which makes it plausible that he also told them to return our weapons to us," he mused, stroking his beard – something he only did when he was extremely troubled.

"We know that man wants to kill us," I added, "and he made it sound like he has an entire list of things plotted for us before he does that. What if he left us our lightsabers so that we can live through whatever's coming next?"

The stern look he shot me told me he was as disturbed by that thought as I was. "I fear you may be right. He doesn't want us dead too soon, so he has left us something that he is certain will ensure our survival."

The loud crunching of leaves and twigs alerted us that something was approaching and it took but a few moments to realize it was coming from the direction of our shuttle and using the destruction path to reach us. I wanted to believe that it was the rescue team but the noises were much too loud to be footsteps, more like heavy thuds that made the ground tremble very slightly.

The Force swarmed suddenly around me, sending an ominous spark of foreboding through my body and igniting a tendril of apprehension within me. Within its light I felt the darkness of something evil…not, not evil, simply…destructive, coming. Spurred by the feeling, which was rapidly growing to fill my heart with the certainty that we were yet again, in trouble, I jumped to my feet and turned on my lightsaber. Qui-Gon, having sensed the same thing, reacted just an instant before me and, as always, had already activated his weapon.

Just then, a medium-sized droid marched into view. Its basic configuration was standard – consisting of a cylindrical shaped body that was attached to two 'legs' of adjustable length. However, the two weapon-firing barrels that obtruded from either side of it were much larger than usual and the plated insignia on them was unfamiliar to me. 

"It's a PyroDroid Destroyer," my Master supplied without lifting his gaze from the approaching foe, "it shoots out streams of fire from each barrel."

That meant that we wouldn't be able to use our lightsabers, as they could not deflect fire. We would have to dodge the fire until the droid came close enough for one of us to destroy it. Fleeing was always an option, but it had been my experience that destroyers, whatever their design, locked onto a target and only relinquished it upon extermination, or the acquiring of a new, more dangerous, target.

"It will be coming into firing…" Qui-Gon's usually steady, calm voice was inordinately shaky and he abruptly fell silent with a sharp gasp. A cloud of dizzy pain stormed our bond to make my own head throb in an echo of what my Master was feeling. The pounding lasted at the most half a second before our bond snapped completely shut so that I could not even gain a notion of what had happened or why.

Worry made my heart flutter. 

Tearing my eyes away from the destroyer, I glanced towards my Master. To a stranger he would have seemed fine, but I could see that he was shaking ever so slightly and that he was a shade pale. His stance was not fluid and graceful, but more like he was struggling to maintain his equilibrium, fighting against the incredible pain that had suddenly beset him.

"Qui-Gon?" in my urgency the question was almost a yell, for my Master had never faltered so harshly without reason. Not for the first time since the crash, I wondered if what remained of his wound was worse than I thought. I knew that he was fully blocking me from his mind so that I would not be distracted by what he was experiencing, but my lack of insight into what was causing this only made me more anxious.

"It's just about to…enter firing…range…" the words were strained, almost choked, and although they were compelling me to defend myself, I found I could not focus my attention on the droid when something was obviously very wrong with my Master.

The lightsaber slipped from Qui-Gon's fingers as a fit of wretched convulsions tore through his body, causing him to waver on his feet. With flailing arms he attempted to regain his balance, but moments later he went crashing to his knees with a strangled groan. 

My heart suddenly began pounding in my chest, as if trying to break free from its confines. Fear born totally of worry for my Master, not of the impending threat, closed in on me. "What is it, Qui-Gon?" I demanded, stepping closer to him while placing my lightsaber in my left hand so that I could touch his shoulder with my right.

Pushing me away with a shaky arm, he firmly ordered, "No, Obi-Wan, don't." Despite the tremor in his voice I recognized his dead serious, no-nonsense tone that always made me think I had done something wrong. 

An eruption of loud bangs made me look up just in time to see the destroyer fire…a stream of blaster shots. I frowned, confused, even as I raised my lightsaber and prepared to deflect them. Qui-Gon had said that it was a PyroDroid Destroyer, so why wasn't it shooting fire? Had my Master been wrong, or had the droid been altered?

Leaping forward so that I could stand in front my Master and protect him from the volley, I easily swept my lightsaber from side to side to deflect the shots from each firing barrel. I had full confidence in my ability to destroy the droid and my concern for Qui-Gon urged me to do so with all possible speed. I had to figure out what was wrong with him.

I shot a glance behind me, feeling a rush of panic upon seeing that he was crouched against the ground, cradling his head in his arms and rocking back and forth. Relatively loud, uneven gasps testified to his erratic breathing, and his fists were clenched so tightly that I could see the bulging blue veins in the back of his hands. He was always so good at controlling pain, and I had momentarily felt but a shadow of his agony, which meant that he was in serious anguish. What in the world was hurting him so much that it caused such a violent reaction in him?

As much as my agitation was compelling me to stop and help Qui-Gon, I knew I could not. I had to destroy, or disable, the PyroDroid first. I could not let my fear distract me, for that would only make me take longer in defeating it, and I knew I had no time to waste. The sooner I could see to my Master, the better. Therefore, as he had taught me to do, I accepted my fear and let it flow through me – filling myself with calm instead of worry.

When the PyroDroid promptly fired another torrent of shots, I was ready. Centering myself deeply in the Force, I purposefully deflected each and every blaster shot so that it would be directed back towards the droid. Then I waited to see what damage they would inflect and was surprised when a spherical shield shimmered around destroyer, causing the blaster fire to bounce off harmlessly with a fizzle.

The destroyer _had_ been modified, I realized with growing alarm. It had shields, which I had only seen on the newer droids that were built to seek out and destroy space targets, such as shuttles or ships. That meant that I had only one good chance left to disable it – the Force. 

Raising my hand, I reached out to the Force and prepared to send the droid flying. With closed eyes I drew from the energy that surrounded me and connected all living things. Then, releasing a ripple of power that surged through the air with a violence that always surprised me considering the serene nature of the Force, I opened my eyes just in time to see…absolutely nothing happen.

Absentmindedly, I blocked the next volley of shots.

Why hadn't that worked? It was then that I saw the small black needle-shaped devices that had been installed around the circumference of the shooting barrels. They were Force deflectors, which meant that I wouldn't be able to use the Force directly against it. So now what was I supposed to do? Something was wrong with Qui-Gon, I didn't have time to…

An idea hit me with sudden alacrity. Most droids had a nearly inexhaustible energy supply, were very fast, but not very maneuverable. As long as I acted quickly, without giving it time to follow my movements, this would be very easy to pull off.

Somersaulting up into the air, I once again centered myself and drew the Force in from around me. However, this time instead of sending it outward, I used it to in conjunction with my own physical strength, to carry me forward. With its assistance, I landed just in back of the PyroDroid. 

Quickly, I struck at the destroyer's force field with my lightsaber. Holding the blade of pulsating light steady, I let my weapon fight against the sizzling and shimmering shield until the latter gave out with a distorted crackle energy. Then, just as the droid was beginning to turn around, I swerved my lightsaber in a slicing motion that cut the PyroDroid in half.

For a moment I stood there watching. When the disjointed droid did not move, I turned and jogged back to Qui-Gon, who was now curled up in a ball, his face a mask of contorted agony that I had never seen on him before. The image sickened me, and reawakened the alarm I had calmed. 

Deactivating my lightsaber, I attached it to my utility belt and dropped to my knees next to my Master. Using the Force, I tried to gain some idea of what was happening to him. With an open bond it would have been easy, but now I could only rely on a vague sense that told me that this had nothing to do with his wound and that the problem was much more insidious than that. 

My throat constricted tightly and my concern grew with every beat of my heart, but I took a deep breath and forced myself to bury my worry and focus on helping Qui-Gon instead. "Qui-Gon," I murmured softly, gently prying his fingers from around his head so that I could hold his hands in my own. "Master, drop your shields. Please, let me help."

Qui-Gon's fingers dug into the skin of my hands as his grip tightened spasmodically, but he either didn't hear me, or chose to ignore my plea. Instead I could feel him releasing his pain into the Force, not fighting it, but accepting it and letting it filter though his body. It seemed to be working, because the lines of pain that were etched on his face were beginning to fade slightly and his breathing became more even, but I knew that if he only let me help him, together we could release the pain much quicker than him working alone. 

Force, he was so stubborn! Why wouldn't he let me help him? If he would only drop those damned shields I could use some of my energy to ease his pain. He had done the same thing for me several times, but he never let me return the favor. It wasn't pride, but the misplaced notion that by doing this, he was protecting me. 

Sighing, I pulled his trembling body up into my lap so that his head was resting against my stomach. Then I released one of his hands and began rocking us slowly back and forth while soothingly brushing my fingers through his hair. If he wouldn't let me help him, I at least would comfort him until he regained his control and let the pain go. "I'm right here," I reminded him of my presence, telling him that I was here for him as he had always been there for me. 

"I…know," he croaked softly, and his crumbling voice sent spears flying through me. He was the epitome of strength to me. Always so serene, always so controlled. I could barely stand to see that ripped from him like this, "thank…you."

"Shh, Master," I whispered, leaning down to rest my forehead against his, "don't speak."

Slowly, his shaking lessened and his breathing deepened. Then the death-grip he had on my hand relaxed and he intertwined our fingers. The pained look on his face disappeared and was replaced by his usual, serene expression. I felt the Force pulse around him and instantly knew when he had found his center. When he searched for and held my eyes with his own, his gaze was steady.

The knot that had formed around my heart eased and I felt some of my worry lessen. Relief rushed through me. I knew, with deep seeded certainty, that whatever had caused this would strike again, but he was all right for now. "Qui-Gon," I whispered, gently caressing his cheek with a trembling palm, and then smiling as a blush colored my face. 

Lifting our intertwined hands, I pressed a kiss to his fingers. "What happened?"

"It was…a sudden flaring pain in my head," he spoke very softly without moving, seeming content to stay in my lap.

"What caused it?" I tightened my grip on his hand and placed my other one on his chest, just over his heart. I could feel the even rising and falling of his chest, and the steady, albeit a little quick, beat of his heart under my hand, and it soothed me.

He shook his head slightly, "I don't know," he admitted. "It happened before, though…not as bad. It…it was when we were attacked on the shuttle, and the Tarcalian pulled you off the ship. I…I wanted to help you, but I was incapacitated for a short while."

I bent my head very slightly and released a small sigh. He had known that something was wrong and hadn't seen it fit to inform me? "You didn't tell me," I struggled not to sound accusatory, "and you said you'd be all right when I asked you in the Ice Box."

"I thought it was…a remnant of the wound at first and I-I didn't want to worry you, Obi-Wan," he reached up to rub his thumb over the cleft in my chin, "You were frightened after we were captured, I knew you'd only feel worse if I told you. So while you were asleep, I initiated a healing trace…but it didn't work because…I have no physical wounds anymore."

A Master wasn't obligated to inform a Padawan of things that didn't directly affect the mission, but damn it, this _did_, especially since we didn't know what the problem was. He had already collapsed during two crucial moments, and it could happen again. During negotiations, perhaps, or at a time when it would cost one of us our lives. Furthermore, even if it didn't affect the mission, it was still important to me. I cared for him.

I pulled back from his touch, closing my eyes at the brief flash of hurt that flickered across his face. Then I spoke firmly, making sure he was meeting my gaze, "Qui-Gon, I understand why you didn't tell me," I assured him, squeezing his hand, "but you should have. Do you remember that mission when I got sick and didn't tell you because you were so worried about the negotiations and I didn't want to distract you from them?"

He nodded.

"And then you told me to _never_ keep anything like that from you for that reason, or any other. You said that no matter what was going on, even during the middle of the most serious, most delicate negotiations, you wanted to know if I wasn't feeling well. Now, as your Padawan I know I can't demand things from you, but as you friend I _demand_ the same courtesy of you. I don't care if that means fearing for your life, I don't care if that means feeling your pain, I want to know when something's wrong." 

Taking a deep breath, I calmed a sudden shot of nervousness. I had never come this close to actually lecturing my Master, and I was a little scared that he would consider me insubordinate. We had a deep respect for each other and our teacher/student relationship was gradually transforming into an equal partnership, but perhaps the time hadn't yet come when I could, in effect, reprimand him.

Silence fell between us, only serving to increase the tension I felt. What if he thought I was being disrespectful? What if I had overreached my bounds? I knew I had just crossed a line I had never come near before, and wasn't sure what to expect. 

Finally, I felt a pulse of reassurance and acceptance through our bond, which was now as open as usual, "You're right, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon smiled up at me, "You're not the young boy I first took as my apprentice, maybe I've simply been trying to hold on to him for too long. I'm sorry."

I released the breath I didn't know I had been holding. He had just done more than apologize and agree that he was wrong, he had realized, even as I had, that I was changing and growing. Furthermore, had given me some of the independence I would need as I came closer to my Knighting. 

"Thank you." Then I shot him a suspicious look and said, "And if you have another episode, you'll lower your shields and let me help you?" Somehow, I managed to keep the worry that thought brought me from my voice. We were out in the middle of nowhere, what if next time Qui-Gon couldn't release the pain?

There was a brief pause of hesitation, a lingering desire to keep protecting me, but he nodded, "I promise, Obi-Wan." 


	6. Scalaris

Hi!  As always, bunches and bunches of thanks for the FB, I always appreciate it!! =D  Enjoy!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Six: Scalaris ~

**Obi-Wan:**

As soon as Qui-Gon regained enough of his strength, he and I went back to the shuttle to salvage our packs, the medical kit, and some food rations. By that time we still had over six hours of sunlight left and decided to start the journey to the capital city. Not being too familiar with this planet's terrain, I hadn't been sure which direction to head in, but Qui-Gon, mysteriously, seemed to know exactly where we were and had simply started walking through the forest in, what appeared to me, a completely random direction. "This way," he had said with an enigmatic smile, refusing to answer me when I asked how he knew.

Although we traveled slower than usual, due to Qui-Gon keeping a relatively calm pace so as not to bring about any other inexplicable collapses, we covered a great deal of land. It hadn't been until about three hours into our journey that my Master was left suddenly short of breath. Concerned, I had warned him not to push his luck but he refused to stop and I had eventually given up on arguing with him. 

Now, however, his shortness of breath had turned into loud, grating gasps and through our bond I could feel his dizziness and disorientation. Every few minutes he stopped for a handful of seconds to calm his body, but as soon as we started walking again, his wheezing returned. Each step he took seemed heavier, harder, and I could tell, and feel, that he was losing this battle against fatigue and…whatever had caused his collapse.

Seeing how weak he truly was only served to increase my own fear for his health, which had only grown during our trek. Every breath he struggled for, every time he stumbled, had my throat and chest constricting. My heart was pumping worry through my blood and my body was stiff with my scared tension. Would this lead to another onslaught of uncontrollable pain? It had broken my heart to see him huddled up in pain, and I wouldn't let his stubbornness bring about another episode. He needed to rest and regain his strength. 

Finally, I stopped and turned to him. "Qui-Gon," I implored, "you have to stop, _now_."

My Master shook his head, "No, we need to get as far as we can tonight. Whoever sabotaged our ship and hired the Tarcalians is still after us, and the sooner we get to the city, the better," he managed to say all of this between his gasps for breath. 

Force, it sounded like my Master had just run seven Intergalactic Marathons in a row and yet he _still_ wanted to keep going? Was he _trying_ to provoke another attack? "I understand that," I assured him, "but if something happens, how will you be able to defend yourself if you can barely stand?"

Qui-Gon conceded my point by remaining silent and I pressed my advantage, "Exerting yourself like this could make you…collapse again."

"We don't know that physical activity will trigger another bout," he countered.

I closed my eyes and called upon the Force for patience. Was it my imagination, or was he acting more like a Padawan than a supposedly wise Master? "We don't know that it won't," I pointed out firmly. 

He opened his mouth to argue but I cut him off by taking his hand into mine and finding his gaze with my own, "Master, if our places were reversed, you wouldn't let me continue. Please…stop, for me. I'm worried."

Qui-Gon must have heard the anxiousness in my voice for his face softened and, smiling slightly, he sent me waves of understanding and comfort through our bond. "Your concern gratifies me," he said softly. Then he looked around at the endless trees that surrounded us on all sides, "As soon as we come across the next clearing, we'll stop and set up camp."

I squeezed his hand and flooded our bond with my own gratitude, "Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~

Distractedly, I stared into the crackling, constantly leaping and falling orange flames of the campfire I had made. The dancing figures hidden in the tendrils comforted my soul, just as the warm glow soothed my body. 

After a little over ten minutes of rest, Qui-Gon had regained enough of his strength to once again appear calm and unruffled. His breathing was quiet, and his noble, assured way of carrying himself had returned. However, despite all of this, I knew that something was wrong. It had nothing to do with his wound, which was, as I had originally thought, nearly healed. It was something else. Something that was working, from the inside, to slowly destroy him. 

"The saboteur could have more planned for us tonight," my Master interrupted my thoughts with his soft, whispered words, "we should take turns keeping watch."

"I'll keep watch all night," I offered without thought, "you should…"

Qui-Gon held up his hand and I fell silent, "No, Obi-Wan. I can't let you do that. You, as well, need your strength for tomorrow. I will sleep first. After four hours, wake me."

His tone was mild but I understood that this was not up for debate. "Yes, Master," I acquiesced. Hopefully, he would wake up feeling rejuvenated. But what if he didn't? a persistent voice inside me asked. What if he only got worse? 

"Good," he narrowed his eyes and teasingly added, "But if you decide to be 'noble' and not wake me up for the second watch, I'll…"

Grateful for the humor, I let a grin spread over my face and interrupted him in exaggerated disbelief, "Master," I scolded, "I never thought _you_ would stoop so low as to threaten me with _that_ cliché."

For a few moments we held a mock glare, but it was ruined by first my laughter, and then Qui-Gon's. It was a wonderful, if temporary, release of the tension that had built up in the both of us, and our chuckles rang out loudly in the mostly silent forest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Qui-Gon slept soundly for nearly two hours before the pain struck. It came suddenly – preceded by the lone hooting of an owl and a warning whispered in the Force – and hit with a vengeance that had my Master violently lurching into wakefulness and curling up into a tight ball under the cover that protected him from the night. 

At the same time my mind was filled with a flashing bolt of excruciating pain that nearly sent me falling back. The anguish bleeding through the bond was so intense that I could barely think. So, this was what he had been trying to protect me against, I realized dazedly, struggling to erect a special type of mental shield around my mind that would prevent me from feeling most of my Master's pain, but also let me help him control it. Qui-Gon had only recently taught me how to do this but, after a few moments of fumbling with the pain and trying to remember his lesson, I managed to block enough of his agony so that all I could feel were the ghosts of it.

The tension and worry that had lurked behind my every thought all day bounded back through me, giddy and intent on devouring me. How long would it last this time? What if it made him too weak to travel and we had to wait for a rescue team that might or might not be coming? What if he lost consciousness? Would I be faced with the decision of leaving him behind and going for help? 

A choked cry from my Master spurred me into sudden action. Leaving my anxious thoughts behind, I crawled over to his shaking form and pulled his head and shoulders up so that they were nestled against my upper body. Then I reached through our bond, sending him waves of energy and helping him release the pain into the Force.

The pale moonlight of the night was not bright enough for me to see the features of his face, and I was glad for that. It was enough to hear his ragged breathing and feel his convulsions against my chest. I had sensed the depth of his pain and that was enough to make my heart whither and my eyes fill with a sheen of tears that was as much for seeing him this way, as it was for my biting concern that something was horribly wrong with him.

Running my fingers though his damply matted hair, I began to speak to him in reassuring whispers. "Remember how, when my shields finally crumbled and you found out about the pain I had been trying to keep from you, you held me all night long?" I paused, not even sure if he could hear me. The pain was worse than last time, and in my heart I knew that it would not completely abandon him until many long hours had passed, if at all. But even if Qui-Gon was too dazed by it to realize I was speaking, it pleased me to do anything that might help him. And in truth, I knew talking would comfort me as much as it did him. It would divert my attention from my unease.

"I never told you how much that meant to me, did I?" I continued steadily, despite the pain in my heart, "It hurt so much, but knowing that you were there made me feel safe. It distracted me from the pain. Your arms, always holding me, and your gentle words of support, filled me with the light of knowing I was deeply cared for. There are few times in my life when I've felt as loved as I did then, and I've held onto that memory when everything seems hopeless and dark. And no matter what, even if we're trapped in some death-hole and our lives are in terrible danger, it always makes me feel better."

Seeking his clenched hands out in the darkness, I gently took one of them and coxed the trembling fingers open. Then I twined our hands together and rested then against his warm, sweaty cheek. "Now," I swallowed hard, struggling to control the helplessness and mounting apprehension that thrummed within me, "I'm returning the favor."

With great effort, Qui-Gon moved closer to me, pressing his forehead against my chest – huddling into me – and I placed my free hand on his back, caressing gently. "I love you, Qui-Gon and I'm here for you, just like you've always been there for me."

I blinked back the tears that threatened to run down my cheeks and closed my eyes. Nothing brought me more suffering than seeing my Master overwhelmed by pain. Both on the shuttle and here, it tore at my heart. And what was worse, the ominous shadow pulsating inside me that told me his life was in danger. My efforts felt pathetic in the face of what I knew he was feeling. I wanted to take away his pain, or at least be as much of a comfort to him as he always was to me.

My thoughts sparked a twinge of guilt within me, bringing back memories of something that I had tried desperately to forget, but which nonetheless insisted on plaguing my conscience. Recently, Qui-Gon had offered to take me to a beautiful tropical world for our next vacation. He said I deserved some time to relax without having to worry about enemies jumping out at us from behind random bushes. Quite sincerely, he had told me that he'd like to spend some time with me in which we could just be friends.

Although it was the kind of offer I had been looking forward to, and although I loved to simply spend time enjoying his company, I had been angry with him at the time and instead of being honest with him, my irritation had turned me towards petty immatureness. I had snapped at him, spat out accusatory words meant only to hurt him, and had then turned and fled to my room in a mixed storm of regret and anger. I had wanted to apologize to him, had wanted to do it so badly but had never been able to speak the words.

Now, looking at the man who had given me so much, the one who never spoke to me with a touch of anger and who would never knowingly hurt anyone, I felt the familiar guilt stabbing through my consciousness. He was always so terribly understanding and yet I had repaid him with stinging lies. It wasn't too late, even now I could apologize. I could say that I was sorry and lift this burden from my heart, but somehow…I couldn't. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to apologize for purposefully trying to hurt him. Words simply weren't enough. I had to…

My thoughts were pushed aside by Qui-Gon's voice, left for another time and place. 

"K-keep…talking," he rasped out into the darkness, "please...d-don't stop."

So he was aware of my words, I realized with relief. If my voice gave him something to focus on then I would talk until the Chosen One appeared. Tightening my grip on his hand, I did just as he asked. I spoke to him about what my happiest memories of our partnership were, about how much I respected and looked up to him, and how happy I was to be his Padawan. I spoke to him about my life as a young Initiate and my dreams of having an apprentice of my own one day. I spoke of everything, and nothing. 

As the night wore on though, my words could not distract me from the worry that burned within me like a fire. He needed medical attention, but we were still about three days travel from the capital, or any populated area, for that matter. What would happen if he got worse?

It was bad enough that we were the prey of an unidentified man who hated us, but now Qui-Gon had fallen victim to a nameless foe that couldn't be fought. All I could do was continue to soothe him through our bond, gently stroke his hair, offer murmured words of comfort, and hope that we would reach the city in time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Pensively, I stared down at the pale, but relaxed face of my Master. He looked so calm now. It was hard to imagine that just an hour earlier he had been at the mercy of a fiery migraine so strong that it had him convulsing and whimpering in pain. With the Force, and my help, he had finally managed to loosen its clutches enough to drift away into the gentle realm of dreams. There was no sign that he had ever been huddled up in agony, except for his hand, which still gripped mine with painful strength.

His head was limply resting against my stomach but the gentleness of his features did not wipe my memory of the flinching, agonized face that I had caught glimpses of in the dancing moonlight. He was terribly ill, and I was frightfully worried. I had tried letting my fear flow through me, but it always returned. I could not meditate – I was too restless. I needed to calm myself though.

When I had been crash-landing the shuttle, I had felt calmer than ever before. It had been more than serenity, it had been a _certainty_ that everything was as it should be. Why couldn't I feel that now? Why was my Force connection normal, after feeling such an amazing thing? Why hadn't I grown from the experience? Why was I still so easily overcome by fear, even knowing the true beauty of the Force?

Exhaustedly, I rubbed my eyes and ran my cold hands over my face.

Maybe, if I could feel that again, I wouldn't be so worried now. If I gave myself completely over to the Force, as I had during the crash, then I would feel that certainty again and it would calm me. It would erase my anxiety and my fear. And maybe, it would also allow me to see what was wrong with Qui-Gon, and help him.

Calling the Force around me, I tried to let it engulf me – stream through, over, and around me – and give myself completely over to it. I tried to absorb its understanding and splendor. I tried to let it fill me with its wonder, but nothing happened. My connection to the Force didn't deepen or change. 

"Obi-Wan," a deep, groggy voice mumbled almost incoherently, "what are you doing?"

Liquid-coated blue eyes fluttered open, blinking to sharpen blurred vision, and Qui-Gon fixed me with a gaze that was part curiosity, part barely-constrained annoyance.

Tenderly, I brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen from the tie to streak across his face, and whispered, "Go back to sleep, it's only been about an hour since you dropped off."

His mouth quirked into a smile, "Sleep? How could I possibly sleep with all the Force-noise you're making? What are you doing?"

My eyes widened and my cheeks warmed. He felt what I was doing? Quickly, I released the Force I had gathered and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." It had taken him so long to be able to rest again, and here I had gone and ruined it for him.

He yawned quietly, covering his mouth with the palm of his hand. "I know that," he closed his eyes, "but you still haven't answered my question."

I exhaled slowly, not sure how to explain it. "I was trying to…you know, like when I landed the shuttle, and the Force was alive."

"And you couldn't do it?" he surmised.

Even though he couldn't see me, I shook my head. "No…will you help me?"

His left upper lip twitched and he seemed amused. "Of course I will help you, but…Obi-Wan, even with hours of meditation it may take months before anything like that happens again, and when it does, it most likely won't be anywhere near as powerful as on the shuttle."

"Why?" I questioned.

He opened his eyes again, "Do you remember when you were sixteen, and you were intent on being able to complete the flowing water kata?"

I was confused at his change of topic but nodded nonetheless.

"It was months away from your skill level at the time, but you were persistent and seeing how great your desire was to learn it, I gave in," he ran his fingers through my hair, smiling distantly at the memory, "First I had you carefully observe me performing the kata and then, while I was catching up on some light reading, I asked you to meditate on it. However, you were eager and impatient, and you didn't want to wait."

I gave him a timid smile, remembering how frustrated I had been at having to meditate. I didn't understand how it would help me with the kata.

He laughed then, "And so you disobeyed me. After reading a page or so, I felt through the Force what you were trying to do, and came out into the common room to stop you. But by the time I got there, you had already started and I decided to let you continue, thinking that you wouldn't get very far. Much to my surprise, I was wrong. Although your rendering was a bit sloppy, you did finish it."

"I was so proud," I recalled with a grin, "that even when you lectured me on the importance of not trying a new kata unsupervised, I didn't care."

"Yes," he agreed with fond sternness, "I couldn't wipe that cocky grin of yours from your face! You were so happy, though, that I couldn't stay annoyed with you for long. When you asked me to help you improve it, I found myself agreeing. So you started again, but this time you weren't able to get more than a minute into it before you fell. You tried again, and again, and again, but you never made it past a certain point.

"You were disappointed, even embarrassed, but you never gave up. It took you months of learning new ways to connect to the Force and maneuver before you were able to do it again – that time with the grace and skill required for the kata." He stared at me pointedly, "Now, I can safely say that it is one of your best katas."

I looked away from my Master, and far into the trees of the forest, where the dancing images of shadows and moonlight drew my gaze. I knew he had told me this so that I could make some connection to what I wanted to do now, and I carefully considered what he might be trying to tell me.

"So," I began tentatively after a handful of minutes, "you're saying that like with the kata, I do not yet have all of the necessary skills to achieve such a connection at will. It will take time for me to learn how this is usually done."

"Yes," he agreed, "and even then, such a connection is very rare. You know that my strength lies in the Living Force, but there have been few times in my life when I've felt the Force the way you did, and it was always when I was in grave danger. After extensive meditation, I have learned to approximate the experience, but have felt nothing quite as…beautiful or intense. Each of those experiences has, however, taught me to deepen my everyday connection to the Force. It is one of the reasons I'm so close to the Living Force, and why it enraptures me so."

I nodded, understanding even though I was slightly disappointed. It had been so exquisite, and I yearned to feel that again, to more fully understand the beauty my Master saw in the living Force. "When…when did it first happen to you?"

He released my hand and instead began rubbing small circles in the center of my palm with his callused thumb. "I was ten," he informed me softly.

"Ten?" I nearly choked on the word, again feeling like I would never achieve the wisdom my Master had. He had been eight years younger than me. Was my connection to the Force more fragile than it should have been? Was I slower than my agemates in this area?

My Master, always in tune with what I was feeling and thinking, was quick to reassure me. "Obi-Wan, that is my strength and it always has been. My lightsaber skills were poor until just before I was taken as a Padawan, but in that one area, I was ahead of the other Initiates and Padawans my age. You should not judge yourself by me; your skills lie elsewhere."

His words did not make me feel better. I had always had trouble seeing and feeling the Living Force as others did. Perhaps it was one of the reasons I found it hard to control my fear. "But feeling the Force is essential to being a Jedi."

"That is true," he conceded my point, "but trust me, Padawan, you are not behind your agemates. In general, your connection to the Force is strong; it is the Living Force that you have trouble understanding. However, now that you have seen why I devote myself to being as in tune with it as I can, I trust that you will work to improve."

I nodded a little halfheartedly. I had full confidence in my lightsaber skills, my negotiation abilities, and my use of the Force, but when it came to being _connected_ to the Living Force, it simply eluded. "As much as I want to, I doubt I'll ever feel it as you do," I admitted one of my greatest concerns and aspirations.

"You must have more faith in yourself, Obi-Wan. You are _very_ talented and will be a great Jedi Knight," he responded with obvious pride and sincerity, "I have no doubt whatsoever that when you learn to trust the Force at all times, you will become much more powerful and wise in it than I am."

What did he mean, '_When_ you learn to trust the Force'? "I _do_ trust the Force." I always had.

Qui-Gon slowly shook his head and spoke decisively but with a touch of mildness in his voice, "Only when you have to, Obi-Wan. You trust it completely only when you have to, when you're desperate, when you have no other choice. Like on the shuttle. It is _that_ that prevents you from fully understanding the Living Force, not any lack of skill or devotion."

"I always use the Force," I protested, slightly stung and a little hurt. I knew he did not mean to make me feel this way, and that he was only being honest with me as he always was, but I could not help but feel suddenly insecure and disappointing.

He smiled, a little sadly, "Yes," he agreed, "you do. You _use_ it all the time, but you don't _trust_ it. There is a difference."

"Yes I do," I insisted, feeling as if he was severely chastising me.

"No," he never broke eye contact and the intensity of his stare did not allow me to either, "You don't trust it enough. Not enough to trust in it without doubt. Not enough to let it guide your actions and believe in what you feel without any conscious thought. Not enough to follow its wisdom without question unless your life is in danger."

I wanted to keep protesting, but I knew that he was right. I always kept myself centered and open to the Force, but as for _trusting_ it in the sense that he meant…I very rarely had. My tendency was to think things out instead of trusting my instincts in regards to the whisperings of the Force. I had to change, but such a fundamental shift in my thinking would take a long time and be very challenging. I would need guidance – Qui-Gon's guidance.

"I know that I am inexperienced and that I…don't know a lot," I admitted, "but with your help, I am learning."

Qui-Gon's features softened and he smiled, his eyes shining with joy. "I don't know what I ever did without you," he whispered both regretfully, and warmly, "Meditate with me?"

I grinned, beaming at him, "Yes, Master, I would be delighted."

~~~~~~~~~~

That night saw the formation of a routine between Qui-Gon, me, and the nameless, faceless foe that was subduing my Master as nothing before ever had. During the three days that it took to complete the trip to the capital city, we always began our journey an hour and a half after dawn. We would travel for eight hours, or as long as my Master's strange illness would allow, before setting up camp. Qui-Gon would sleep first and I would keep watch until the burning agony that always struck in my Master's head woke him from his peaceful slumbers. Then I would hold him, pumping as much energy as I could into him so that he could release the pain as quickly as possible. As soon as it died down, we would sink deep into a joined meditation that would revitalize us both, and give him the strength he needed to keep functioning.

The communal meditation seemed to work wonders for him because he never had so much trouble traveling through the forest as he had had on that first day, and the fits of pain were never quite as severe. However, that fact did not ease the sharp, consuming anxiety in my heart. Meditation was only supplying the energy needed to hinder the invisible enemy within him, it wasn't defeating it. A healing trance had done nothing to improve his condition and neither of us could determine what the problem was. We only sensed a dark force working within him, nothing specific to tell us what was wrong. I knew, though, that his life was in danger, and I was afraid of what a doctor would tell us when we finally saw one.

Fortunately, by some grace of the Force, our saboteur did not thwart us again. We both knew that he was still out there. That we would surely meet with him or his hired men again and that, even if he wasn't related to our mission, his presence could obstruct it, but neither of us questioned his decision to leave us in peace during our journey to the capital city. We had both breathed a sigh or relief when we set foot on the cobblestone streets of Decartha. Not only had we made it without being attacked, we had made it without Qui-Gon's health further deteriorating.

The Directors had made reservations for us at their finest hotel, which was across the street from their Complex of Administration, and set aside only for their most honored guests. Before taking an airtaxi there, we had stopped at a restaurant to change our clothes and make ourselves presentable. Upon arriving at the Luxury Hotel, we found the receptionist behind the check-in counter busy attending a middle-aged male who seemed to be very upset, as we could hear his angry, snapped words across the room from where we were sitting and waiting.

I could quite easily understand what the man was saying but it was his voice, and not his words, that caught my attention. He had a distinctive accent which I could not place, but the way in which he spoke, so rushed and hurried with a slight gruff catch, seemed achingly familiar to me. The Force around him wasn't dark, not in the literal sense, but more…mysterious, more chilling. In fact, he filled me with a very cold, very grave, feeling. Where had I heard this man before?

TBC… (on Friday)


	7. A Man of Many Names

Hi!  Thanks for the FB, Cerasi5 and ~Becky~ (BTW – if you didn't do well on your finals you can have your teachers contact me and I will personally take all the blame! @_@  I hope you did well, though!).  Here's the next part!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Seven: A Man of Many Names ~

**Obi-Wan:**

Sighing, I forced myself to think about something else. Perhaps my worry for my mater was making me jumpy and putting me on edge. I needed to get a grip on myself and remain calm. I couldn't start seeing dark shadows in every corner. I had to work with what I had, not some vague, half nameless feeling that couldn't be placed.

Impatiently, I played with the cuffs of my robes and shot a sideways glace at Qui-Gon. As always, he was the personification of grace and patience. Leaning back comfortably in his seat, he somehow managed to look attentive and relaxed at the same time. He, of course, was not bothered by the delay. Normally, I would not have been either, but I wanted to get up to our rooms so that we could call a doctor and have him examined. I needed to know what was wrong with him, this uncertainty only doubled my concern.

Finally, the flustered man who had been arguing with the now clearly distraught receptionist, stormed out of the hotel in a flurry of muttered curses and exasperation. The door slammed shut behind him and the receptionist, a young man in his twenties, shook his head before turning to us. 

"My deepest apologies for keeping you waiting," he said as pleasantly as he could manage after the trying episode, "but my good friend Revelc Cainam does not seem to understand that being the head of security does _not_ give him the authority to turn this hotel into a maximum security prison! Just yesterday he upgraded the security devices in the master suite and now he wants to install _listening devices_ there as well. It's as if he doesn't understand that the Directors' guests need to feel welcome here and not concerned about can't be treated like _criminals_!"

Qui-Gon and I stood and walked over to the counter behind which the young man was standing. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience he caused you," my Master answered quite pleasantly with a charming smile, "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi," he gestured towards me and I bowed, "we have reservations."

The young man nodded and gave a forced smile, obviously still irritated at 'Revelc Cainam', and said, "Hold on a moment and I will check in the computer system."

"Of course," Qui-Gon bowed his head courteously.

The receptionist began keying information into the computer console built into his side of the counter and after a few moments looked up at us with a worried smile. "Your names are in our system, but I'm afraid there has been a mistake. The main suit, which was reserved for you, was accidentally given to an ambassador that just arrived from a neighboring planet. However, there are many other rooms we can give you that, although not quite as luxurious, will surely meet your needs."

"We will be quite comfortable in any suite that you have available," I assured the young man, smiling. He could put us in the cellar for all I cared. I was more concerned with getting a doctor to examine Qui-Gon.

"Good, then if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your accommodations."

~~~~~~~~~~

"We found the timer in Revelc Cainam's rooms," a voice danced over a marred jumble of pictures and sounds that blanketed my mind. Flashes of people and places flickered before me so quickly that I could not take in or identify them, but over it all was that same voice, repeating that same sentence over and over again until the words rang in my ears like the persistent tolling of a bell. 

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice seemed distant and I felt a heavy hand ruffling my hair, drawing me forward from the fragmented images of my dreams. Slowly, I waded through the semi-conscious world of sleep, until his voice was a loud rumble in my ears. 

Groggily, I opened my eyes and raised my head, memory rushing through me in an instant. The receptionist had called a doctor for us, who, upon arriving, said he had to perform some tests and drew so much blood from Qui-Gon, that my Master had to lay down to prevent himself from getting dizzy.

The doctor had worked for nearly two hours in the adjoining room and, as time ticked by, I had found myself growing increasingly nervous and impatient. Was or wasn't Qui-Gon going to be all right, and what was wrong with him? After nearly driving my Master insane with my constant pacing, he had beckoned me to him. Taking a seat on the side of the bed, where he was still resting, I had begun apologizing when…a persistent Force touch against my mind had overwhelmed my thoughts and rapidly drawn me into sleep.

Qui-Gon had used a Force-suggestion on me! "So, you finally got tired of your pesky Padawan?" I teased accusingly, "and seeing the perfect opportunity to gain some much needed freedom, you put me to sleep?"

"Obi-Wan," he answered, equally as joking, "If I had wanted to be free from you, I would have left you on Sendrus III, with that young woman Adelya, whose large…" Qui-Gon shot me a knowing look and upon seeing my furious blush, continued, "…_intellect_ held you quite enamored. I'm sure that you would have hardly noted my departure…in fact, by now, I'm certain that you would be expecting a child."

My flush deepened, making my cheeks feel like they were on fire, and I gasped, "Master!"

Qui-Gon laughed merrily, "Did you think I hadn't noticed the way you were looking at her?"

I couldn't stop myself from smiling, "I was just admiring her…"

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow at me, "Her what, Obi-Wan?"

If possible, I felt my face grow even hotter, "Her obvious _joy_. Didn't you notice how happy she always was?" I managed to stammer out. Of course he had interrupted me at the worst possible moment to make it seem like I was going to say something completely different!

Shaking his head, he reproached me with false sternness, "Of course _I_ noticed her joyous nature, but I'm quite certain that you noticed something _completely_ different about her."

"She was a very nice girl!" I exclaimed defensively. 

A grin quickly spread over my Master's face, "Indeed she was. I found it very amusing that my quiet, studious, respectful Padawan was suddenly transformed into a bumbling klutz by her…'obvious joy'. I don't think I ever saw you trip over nothing more times than I did when you were around her."

"Master…" I protested again, covering my face with my hands to hide my quite apparent mortification and growing laughter.

Suddenly, I found myself drawn forward from where I was sitting and enveloped in a tight embrace. Threading his fingers in my hair, he pressed my face against his chest and held me against him with protective, unwavering strength.

Surprised, I fumbled to halfway return the hug while struggling to breathe against the cloth of his tunic. "Obi-Wan," I heard him whisper into my ear, "You bring such light to my life."

Stifling any comment I might have made about not choking one's apprentice, I managed to draw back just enough to easily breathe while still remaining nestled against him. The love I heard in those words was so powerful that it formed a warm bubble of aching light in my heart and made my throat constrict and pulse with a joy that nearly stole my breath.

Clenching my fists into his tunic, I settled contentedly against him. Next to his words, any I could offer seemed pathetically inadequate so I remained silent, hoping he knew how much I truly cared for him.

After a few moments of shared silence, the loud, pointed sound of someone clearing his throat caused me to quickly retreat from his arms, smiling shyly as I turned to see Doctor Marcof gazing at us from the doorway between rooms.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi," he addressed, coming to stand on the other side of my Master's bed. The doctor was quite young, perhaps thirty, and his brown hair, highlighted by streaks of dirty blond, made a sharp contrast to his bright blue eyes. The joy he felt at performing his chosen profession was evident in both his friendly manner, and the sparkle in his eyes. "I have news for you," he smiled. 

The tests. My joy and contentedness quickly fled my body, giving way to my tension and worry. What would he tell us? Would I be ready to hear it if something was seriously wrong with my Master? The unidentifiable force within him had grown and gone untreated for so many days. We had been delayed by so many things. By the crash, the Tarcalians, being held in that Ice Box, and then traveling to the city. What would that mean for Qui-Gon?

I studied the man closely. His warm voice hadn't betrayed the serious tone of someone who was about to deliver a bad report. Nor did his face seem troubled. Perhaps there was nothing seriously wrong with Qui-Gon? Before letting myself get too hopeful, I took my Master's hand and clasped it tightly between mine. 

"Yes, Doctor," Qui-Gon acknowledged, sending me a reassuring smile, "Please tell us what you found."

"Forgive me for taking so long," he began, "but there were some strange chemical imbalances in your blood and it took me quite some time to track down their cause. After performing several tests, and calling to confer with my colleagues, I believe you have contracted a very rare disease known as Scalaris."

Qui-Gon and I shared an equally unenlightened glance. Neither of us had ever heard of it.

Doctor Marcof chuckled, "No, I'm not surprised that you don't know what it is. It is usually only seen among Versuvians, and seldom infects humans. In a Versuvian, it causes frequent attacks of relatively harsh pain, but, similar to the human cold, passes within a few weeks. However, in humans, the fits of pain are much more serious – usually overwhelming – and generally cause the infected person to very quickly lose consciousness and then slip into a fatal coma."

I closed my eyes. It was just as I had feared, every night as I had held him. Each fit brought extreme danger of my Master losing consciousness and not waking up ever again. We were fortunate to have made it to the city. 

The ripples of comfort I felt through our bond only shamed me. Qui-Gon was the one who was ill and here he was, reassuring me. I was more afraid than he was! Force, why did I have so much trouble controlling my fear? Squeezing his hand, I returned the emotions he sent me.

"However," he continued, "either because you're a Jedi or you have some strange resistance to this disease, you have somehow miraculously pulled through several of these attacks. Because of this, I am certain that with proper treatment, you will make a full recovery." 

Relief filled me suddenly and absolutely. Like a bright light, it shone through every corner and crevice of my heart and soul. A tremendous weight had been lifted from my being and I felt light and giddy. Joy bubbled through me in the form of laughter that spilled from my lips to fill the otherwise silent room. I felt more happy than I could remember feeling in my entire life – happier than perhaps I had a right to be – and much happier, I was sure, than Qui-Gon himself was.

A pulse of gratitude and mirth through our bond brought me back from my blinding happiness. Remembering where I was, and who I was with, I reeled my joy back in, letting it silently fill me instead of outwardly showing it to the whole universe. Silencing my laughter, I felt my cheeks redden and had to force myself to meet first my Master's sparking gaze, and then the Doctor's. Qui-Gon was grinning broadly, purely because of my reaction and not his own relief, and the young man was smiling, understanding evident in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, wanting to crawl into a hole and burry myself.

"Don't be," Qui-Gon immediately assured me, "there are many times that I've felt like doing the same thing."

I scoffed. That was something I simply could not imagine.

"I speak the truth," he assured, playfully defensive, "You obviously enjoy scaring me half to death by being nearly fatally wounded, slipping into comas, and disappearing on strange new worlds, and my only reward for making it through your stunts is the joy I feel when I'm told you'll be okay." 

He was joking, but there was a note of seriousness behind it. As his apprentice, I had spent more time in the Healers' Ward than any other Jedi to ever walk the halls of the Temple. I knew Qui-Gon worried for me every time that I wasn't feeling well, or was gravely ill, but for the first time I understood what he went through. This was the first time that something had ever seriously been wrong with him, and now, having felt so terrible at seeing him in pain, I realized how hard it was for him to watch me suffer. 

Turning my attention back to the Doctor, I smiled apologetically, "Please continue."

Doctor Marcof nodded, "Don't worry about it. My brother was once very close to a young boy who lived next door to us. Eventually, the trials of time and worry drew them apart, and he's always regretted not staying in touch with him. You two have something very special – don't take it for granted."

"We won't," Qui-Gon assured him, giving me a crooked half-smile.

"Anyway," the Doctor was the first to break the silence that descended across the room, "I don't want to take any chances so I think that we should start treatment now. Administering a Dorasyne drip for the next three hours should do it. After that, I'll prescribe some follow-up medication for you to take twice a day – at breakfast and dinner – to make sure that the disease doesn't spring back."

"Sounds good," I said, smiling.

"Yes," the Doctor said with some obvious hesitation, "but there is a slight problem. The drug Dorasyne is extremely powerful and although I doubt there is any risk of addiction, it _does_ 'cause exceedingly painful convulsions in the patient. Probably as agonizing, if not more so, than the attacks you've been suffering for the past few days, and unfortunately, I won't be able to give you a painkiller because it would counteract the Dorasyne."

_More_ painful? How was that possible? The 'headaches' – although it was an insult to call them that – were so intense as to be unimaginable. How could this be _worse_? I didn't even want to envision what that meant – what it would mean for Qui-Gon. 

Shaking my head, I determined to swallow my own ridiculous emotions, which seemed to be perkily cropping up in hordes lately, and instead be strong for my Master. Force only knew how he'd make it through this. 

Don't worry, Qui-Gon, I whispered, sending him ample amounts of reassurance and companionship – wanting him to feel, not just know, that I was here for him, I won't leave your side.

Qui-Gon didn't answer, and instead I felt a stab of sadness across our bond. "Doctor, may I have a moment to speak with my Padawan in private, please?"

"Of course," the young doctor bowed and retreated back into the adjoining room.

I was confused at my Master's request. Was something wrong? Did he not wish me to stay with him during the administration of the drug? Was he unhappy with my efforts to help and comfort him? I knew they were pathetic considering how much pain he had been in, but I had done my best.

"No, Obi-Wan," my Master's voice was soothing, "You have helped me more than you can possibly know. I am extremely grateful for your concern and caring. Knowing that you were with me, and hearing your words, _did_ make the pain easier to deal with."

Warm waves of appreciation flowed through my mind and I smiled, "I'm glad that I could…help…and," tentatively now, I continued, "I'll help you through the treatment, too."

His sad smile only added to my confusion. "Obi-Wan, you've lost track of the time."

I frowned, not understanding what that had to do with anything. "Master?"

"Our saboteur delayed us nearly four days, and if we hadn't left ahead of schedule, we would have missed the preliminary meeting, which starts in a little less than twenty five minutes," he explained.

Surely the Directors would understand that we needed some time, considering the fact that our ship had been sabotaged and my Master was ill? "Don't worry, Master, I'll speak with them and have the meeting delayed."

Qui-Gon shook his head, "No, Obi-Wan," his tone was regretful; "You know how delicate the situation here is, Padawan. We cannot delay this first meeting; it is important that we establish good relations with the Directors to more quickly help them compromise and prevent a war."

He wasn't thinking of _postponing_ his treatment to go to the meeting…was he? "You're in no shape to go!" I protested, much more vehemently than I had intended, "You can't possibly…"

I forced myself to fall silent at Qui-Gon's raised hand, bowing my head slightly, embarrassed at my overreaction. "No, I don't intend to go. I intend for you to go, while the Doctor begins my treatment."

That meant that I would have to leave him during the treatment though. I didn't want to do that – not when my presence would help him. He was my friend, I couldn't abandon him when he needed me.

Before I could protest, he continued, "This first meeting may seem like a formality, but you know that it is where we access the emotions of the people we will be working with, to gain some idea of how to proceed and how easy or difficult the negotiations will be. Delaying it might prove harmless, or it might anger the Directors. That's simply something we can't risk." 

I swallowed; he did have a point. "But…I want to be here for you…"

He squeezed my shoulder, "I realize that, Obi-Wan, and I thank you. However, the mission always comes first. I will sorely miss your presence here, but remember what I told you on Prescot Prime when I found out that you were sick? I said that I always wanted to know if you weren't feeling well, but that there would be times, because of the mission, that I wouldn't be able to take care of you."

Dejectedly, I let my gaze fall to the floor. His point was well taken, our duty as Jedi always came first. However, we also had another duty. A duty to ourselves and to each other. It just didn't feel right that I should leave him, knowing how much pain he'd be in, "It doesn't feel right," I voiced my thought softly, almost speaking to myself.

Qui-Gon ran his fingers down my braid, twining the end around his fingers, "I know it doesn't, Obi-Wan. And every time I've had to leave you behind because you were sick or injured and I had to tend to the mission, it didn't feel right to me either. But I did it, because there was more at stake than just one life." Qui-Gon's voice reflected the same resigned sadness I felt in my own heart.

With a gentle tug of my braid, he called Doctor Marcof back into the room.

"Everything I need has been brought from the hospital," he informed us upon entering, "and we can begin as soon as you're ready. However, there is one thing I would like to tell you first." His somber tone made me look into his eyes, which I found had dulled considerably.

He hadn't found something else, had he? "What is it?" I questioned immediately.

A reassuring smile was flashed my direction, "Do not worry – he will be fine. It's just that…well, as I said, Scalaris is a very rare disease, even more so among humans. The few who have been infected had spent great amounts of time on the Versuvian homeworld…" he let his words dwindle, looking expectantly from Qui-Gon to myself.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Doctor," I spoke, "but neither of us has been there recently, and we haven't spent any time near a Versuvian either." Versuvia was a planet on the outer rim which had very little contact with outsiders. I had never been there at all, and to my knowledge, Qui-Gon hadn't either.

Doctor Marcof sighed, "That is what I thought."

Qui-Gon spoke the question before I could, "Is there any other way I could have become infected?" 

He sighed again, this time louder and he seemed obviously a little uncertain of how to say what he wanted to say. "Yes, there is. Someone could have…infected you on purpose. Usually it takes about at least two days for symptoms to appear after infection. According to what you told me, and when the first pain attack occurred, I think you were infected about four days ago."

Qui-Gon and I shared a disturbed look. That meant he had been infected during our flight to his planet. Even without knowing what was wrong with him, we both thought it had natural causes, but in reality, our saboteur had struck again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Clasping Qui-Gon's hand tightly, I watched as the doctor began hooking him up to a machine that would regulate and pump the drug into his system. The Complex of Administration was located across the street from the hotel and I was taking advantage of that by staying as long as I possibly could. Of course I didn't want to leave Qui-Gon's side, but truth be told, I was a little nervous.

Qui-Gon had recently begun letting me take a larger role in our negotiations, and once, when they were not extremely serious, he had let me conduct them all by myself. He had, of course, been there, and had I made a terrible mistake, he would have taken over. I hadn't done as well as I would have liked, but I satisfied both parties and Qui-Gon had praised my performance.

This was different though. If the negotiations weren't a success, there could be a civil war and lives would be lost. Qui-Gon wouldn't be there at all, and despite my protests, was planning to shield himself from me, so that he wouldn't distract me at all from the meeting. That meant I would be on my own – completely. Not only that, but someone was after our lives. What if he interfered with the mission? What if he was planning something that would endanger its success? How would I handle that situation?

Sighing, I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head. I was nervous and apprehensive. My concern was leading me to brood about things I couldn't do anything about. I would deal with each situation as it came. I could do nothing more. Worrying about every possible thing that could go wrong would only put me more on edge and would hinder my actions. I had been asking my Master to send me on my first, short-term solo mission – in a sense, it was just coming sooner than I expected. I was ready for this; I just had to stay calm, like Qui-Gon.

"Remember," my Master cut into my thoughts, "the purpose of the preliminary meeting. Carefully observe both of the Directors. The way they speak, move, sit, or do anything, is a clue as to what they're feeling."

I smiled a little placantingly, "I know, Master, thank you."

"It is very important that you not take sides, or even appear to. Your job, as a Jedi, is to remain completely neutral and work towards something that will satisfy everyone. Your main goal is the preservation of peace," he advised after a short period of silence.

Mutely, I wondered if Qui-Gon thought I was ready for this. The things he was telling me I had already known before becoming a Padawan. "Of course, Master. I did take Yoda's introductory course to negotiations."

"And," he exclaimed almost excitedly, obviously thinking of something new, "it's essential that you listen to what they each have to say and not sound accusatory when inquiring how the situation reached this point. It's important to know why they're at the brink of war, but don't make it sound like it was their fault."

Force, I was nervous enough as it was. I knew he meant well, but he was only making it worse. "I will remember your lessons, Master," I assured him.

"Whatever you do, don't…" he nearly cut me off with this newest piece of advice and I couldn't stop myself from interrupting before he could finish.

"Master," I drew his attention, "…Qui-Gon, I know this isn't what either of us would have chosen, and I am nervous and a little scared, but I will do the best that I can." With a half smile, I gripped his other hand so that I was holding them both, "I'm eighteen, and I know that I have a lot to learn. I also know that I've learned from the best, and with your teachings and example to follow, I'll be able to do this."

Qui-Gon lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, and a wistful expression filled his cobalt blue eyes. It was an endless gaze that held sadness mixed with joy, and pride mixed with acceptance. "It seems only yesterday," he spoke with a touch of regret and reminiscence, "that you were thirteen, eager to prove yourself to me, desperate to impress me. Sometimes I forget how far you've come." He released one of my hands and touched my chin, "Just listen to the Force at all times, open yourself completely to it and you'll do fine."

Smiling shyly, I ducked my head to hide my flush. "Thank you, Master." I knew what he was referring to, and his gentle rebuke that I didn't entirely trust the Force wrung in my mind. Even if it had hurt to hear him say that, I would take his words to heart and would make him proud by trying my very best to start changing how I second guessed my instincts and the Force.

Qui-Gon's thumb brushed across my cheek with such tenderness, such love, that it made my heart ache. Every time I was confronted with his feelings, I was humbled. How could I have said all those horrible things to him when he asked me to go on vacation with him? How could I have lied, just for the perverse satisfaction of hurting him? More importantly, since there was nothing I could do to change what I had said, why did I find it so difficult to apologize?

I sighed. I knew why. It was because I had _tried_ to hurt him. There were times, such as on Melida/Daan, when I had hurt him unintentionally and always, no matter what the circumstances, I regretted it. This was different though. I had hurt him on purpose. I had no idea how to apologize for that. Perhaps a simple, 'I'm sorry', would do – as long as it was heartfelt – but I honestly didn't even know how to approach the subject to begin with.

Still, I had to try…

"Padawan," he spoke very quietly, "sometimes a burden shared does not feel quite so heavy. Tell me what troubles you, perhaps I can help."

A flash of anxiety stole its way into my heart. This was it. My chance. He did not know what troubled me, but he knew that something was on my mind and had given me the opening to expand on. All I had to do was say something like, 'Remember when you asked me to go on vacation and I said those horrible things to you. I didn't mean them. I'm sorry,' and the guilt would be gone. Qui-Gon would forgive me, I would forgive myself, and everything would be all right.

"I…" I felt so nervous. My chest hurt and I had to stop myself from shaking. It figured, I had faced innumerable dangers and come out alive, and now I was conquered by my own heart. There was no reason to be afraid, Qui-Gon would accept my apology, I had no doubt of that… My words still seemed so inadequate though.

Steeling myself, I started again, "I want to…" but my voice quickly fell to silence and I closed my eyes in shame at my inability to simply say I was sorry.

A resigned sigh greeted my ears, "When you are ready to talk, I will be here."

Swallowing, I nodded. "Yes, I know. Thank you."

Silent minutes ticked by, in which I forced myself to yet again push my guilt into the back of my mind. There would be time for apologies later. I had a mission to see to and I had to be ready.

Finally, he nodded his head towards the timepiece that hung at the foot of the bed, "It's time for you to go."

I tightened my grip on his hand, "I'll come back as soon as I can," I hated the thought of leaving him to face this pain alone.

His eyes twinkled, "I know," he let go of my other hand and gave me gentle push, "Go on, you musn't keep the Directors waiting."

Regretfully, I stood and walked towards the door.

"Obi-Wan," I turned upon hearing him speak my name, "I believe in you."

~~~~~~~~~

As I crossed the street and approached the Complex of Administration's main entrance, I tried to apply all the powers of observation Qui-Gon had instilled in me. The mood of the general population could be a great indicator as to the true severity of the situation. Therefore, I paid close attention to the people walking the streets, trying to gain a sense of this city's atmosphere. However, aside from the usual rushed feeling of people trying to get where they were going, everything seemed rather relaxed. 

I sighed. No doubt Qui-Gon would have picked up an underlying unease. If only I had his prowess with the Force. The thing that made him such a great negotiator was that he could so easily sense people's emotions and see a way to reason with them. If I was half as connected to the Force as he was, I would consider myself extremely talented. As it was, half the time I felt as if I was slowing him down.

"Name?" a scratchy, brusque voice asked.

Shaking myself from my pit of self pity, I snapped my gaze upward.

I had reached the main entrance and was standing before a middle aged man who was obviously a security guard. The man's face was sharp and hard – unwrinkled by time's passing – and he radiated restrained strength and…powerful emotions that were hidden from me but nonetheless made me feel…nervous. Deep brown eyes, peering at me through tousled locks of ebony hair, bored through me and were unreadably cold.

"What?" I asked rather stupidly, caught off guard by his chilling presence.

Annoyance flashed in his eyes, "This is the Complex of Administration and I cannot let you in unless _your_ name is on _this_ list," he spoke in an extremely condescending voice, gesturing vaguely with his hand, which held a computer pad, "and, I can't see if your name is on this list if you don't tell me what it is."

I controlled the surge of irritation that threatened to spill out into my words, and answered, quite calmly, "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi." Qui-Gon wouldn't have let something like that bother him, but I didn't have his control. I probably never would.

His eyes scrolled down the pad, "Ah, yes, here you are," he absentmindedly thrust a metallic wristband at me, "A 'Qui-Gon Jinn' is supposed to be accompanying you. Will he be arriving soon?"

Familiarity. His voice ringed with it. Who was he? Why did I feel like I had spoken with him before? He didn't _look_ familiar, he just sounded it. From where though? A previous mission? That seemed unlikely. Perhaps from earlier today, even. Maybe from the hotel? Yes! That was it! He had been arguing with the receptionist when we arrived. What had the man said his name was? 'Revelc Citanul'? 

With most of my worry for Qui-Gon having been lifted from my shoulders, I found myself thinking about things that I had before mostly let slip my mind. Making connections that I should have made earlier. He was Revelc Citanul…yes, but there was something else. He seemed familiar from somewhere else. I had heard his voice before then. On the shuttle. Yes. This was the same man who had promised to send out a rescue team and then hadn't. This was T'Sixe Tnodi…or at least that was the name he had given me. 

Not only that, but I had heard him after that… Force, in the Icebox, when Qui-Gon and I had listened to the conversation between the Tarcalian and the saboteur. This was him. His voice held that same strange accent, that same hatred, this time hidden undertones of practice and control. This was the saboteur…the one who wanted us dead, the one who had infected Qui-Gon with that disease, the one who hated us, the one who had the Force only knew what planned for us. 

A surge of surprise flooded through me and my chest grew tight. I hadn't expected to come face to face with him so quickly. Of course, just because I was taken aback didn't mean that I was about to complain. This was wonderful; I could capture him right now and be done with it! Then all I would have to worry about was the negotiations and…

No. A sinking feeling of disappointment filled me. No, I couldn't take any action against him now. It would simply be too dangerous. I had no doubt that I could subdue him – that wouldn't be too difficult – but if I did, there could be disastrous consequences to the mission.

The Marynes and the Sarocks, the two tribes of people on this planet, were of the same species, but were very distinctive from each other. The Marynes were much darker in skin tone than the Sarocks, and that made them easy to tell apart. Revelc Citanul's skin was much too pale to be that of a Maryne. 

Normally, that wouldn't have mattered, but the situation on this planet made it matter. The Marynes and the Sarocks had been at war for years before finally reaching peace. Two Directors were in control of the government, one from each tribe. Governor Macormick was a Maryne, and Governor Natzo was a Seltec. 

I hadn't expected for the saboteur, the man with a personal vendetta of hatred against us, to be working in the Complex of Administration. That complicated things. I had no proof – just my own assurances that I recognized his voice from three different places – and it wouldn't look good for the unbiased Jedi negotiator to attack the Sarock head of security and then not be able to prove his accusations. The Sarock Director might get suspicious that I was prejudiced against him and that would jeopardize the mission. 

The negotiations were my first priority. I could do nothing that might make the situation here worse than it already was, I could do nothing that might lead the Directors more quickly down the path towards civil war. There was a possibility that I could convince both Directors that Revelc Cainam was trying to kill Qui-Gon and myself, but there was also a possibility that I couldn't. If I couldn't, it would only make a tense situation even more fragile. Would only make the negotiations more difficult because I might have to deal with a Director that didn't trust me from the very beginning. I couldn't risk that, even with something as important as this.

Helplessness welled up within me. He was right in front of me and yet I couldn't act now. I couldn't move to capture him. I would have to leave him be until I could speak with the Directors and gain their confidence. I would have to hope that I wasn't letting my last chance to safely capture this man before he could do more harm, slip through my fingers. I would have to hope that this didn't give him the chance to escape.

My helplessness was quickly accompanied by boiling frustration. Force! He was _right here_ and I would have to simply walk away. I would have to leave him, wondering if the next step in his plan would further endanger Qui-Gon's – or my own – life. Wondering if one of us wouldn't survive whatever he was going to throw at us next. My hands were tied, and I hated it. Hated the feeling of not being able to do _anything_, hated that I would have to wait for another 'opportunity to present itself'.

Struggling to control this surge of emotion, I forced myself to remain calm and release my frustration into the Force. I had the negotiations to deal with, and I had to act very carefully right now. I couldn't let on that I knew who he was. That would scare him into running as soon as I met with the Directors, and then I would have little to no change of capturing him easily. I couldn't make him suspicious; I couldn't let him know that I was on to him. No, I had to act normally.

Taking the wrist-band, I slipped my hand through it and watched as it automatically readjusted its size to fit me. "Master Jinn isn't feeling well and has remained in our rooms," I answered softly, eyeing the man.

The piercing gaze never left my face, "Oh, what a shame," he whispered dryly in a voice that mocked sincerity, "I hope he is feeling better by the time you return."

"Yes," I locked my eyes with him, "thank you."

The man smiled then, but it wasn't a smile of mirth. It was a smile of…emotions I couldn't name or begin to fathom. "There will be several security checks inside. Simply pass the wristband over the scanning devices next to each doorway and you will be admitted. The Directors' office is on the top floor."

He moved to let me by, and I slowly, deliberately, walked through the doorway.

"Good luck with the negotiations," he called behind me, in a tone I could almost describe as…gloating, "You hold the fate of many in your hands." He was anything but sincere, and yet I believed Qui-Gon when he said he thought this man had little to do with the mission, save the fact that his actions could unintentionally disrupt it. No, it wasn't the failure of the mission he was after, but our lives.

I continued on without answering, and as I walked across the lobby towards the turbo-ascenders across the room, I felt him staring at me…

TBC… (on Monday)


	8. Blood Washed Timepiece

Hi everyone!  I thought I'd post this real quick before I run off to see the Two Towers again.  Thanks for the FB and I hope you enjoy the part.  BTW, anyone who hasn't seen the Two Towers yet really should, it's a great movie!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Eight: Blood Washed Timepiece ~

**Obi-Wan:**

"Could you please tell the Directors that Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi has arrived to conduct the preliminary meeting between them," I pleasantly requested of the young secretary whose desk was stationed in the waiting room attached to the Directors' office.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, smiling, "but the Directors left a few hours ago to attend a banquet held in their honor. They should be returning in a few minutes though, if you'd care to wait."

They were attending a banquet? Together? "Yes, of course I will wait," glancing around the room I spotted what I was looking for, "Would it be at all possible for me to use your portable holocom?"

"Of course," she said, "by all means."

"Thank you," I bowed. I didn't mind waiting for the Directors, but as long as I had to wait, I might as well do a little investigating. It was time to find out how Revelc Citanul had sabotaged a shuttle that the Seltec government had given us. 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Ah, yes, Padawan Kenobi," Governor Kernus greeted me with a confused smile, "I did not expect to hear from you or your Master again."

I bowed, "Thank you for speaking with me. I am sorry to disturb you, but I must ask you some important questions."

The Governor cocked a curious eyebrow but nodded nonetheless.

"It is about the shuttle that you gave us…" 

"The shuttle?" the Governor interrupted me, "what shuttle?"

I frowned, "The shuttle…the one your government provided for us when my Master informed you that we had bee assigned another mission."

"Ah, yes, that shuttle," he spoke expansively, as if it was some sort of revelation, "I know of which one you are referring to, but we did not give it to you."

What was that supposed to mean? "You mean that you expect the Order to pay you for it?" I ventured.

"No, not at all. We would have gladly given you a shuttle if you required one. The shuttle you left the planet with was not ours, it was sent to you by the Ceerus Directors, for your convenience."

Realization dawned within me, making me want to kick myself. I had assumed. How many times had Qui-Gon told me not to assume? How many more times would he have to tell me before I finally took his words to heart? When the Governor had said that a shuttle had been provided for us, I had never thought to ask by whom. I had simply assumed that it was them. 

"Is something wrong, Jedi Kenobi?" he questioned, sounding truly concerned.

I smiled as best I could, "No, thank you for your time, Governor. That will be all."

He seemed confused again, but did not question me further. Instead we both bowed and turned off our holocoms. 

So, I considered thoughtfully, the Seltec Government _hadn't_ given us the shuttle, it had come from Ceerus, and I was willing to bet that it hadn't been the Directors' who had sent it for us. It had been Revelc Citanul, who had taken the opportunity to quite cleverly sabotage it.

My thoughts were fortunately interrupted before they could turn more self-berating. From outside the waiting room, I could hear footsteps and voices approaching. Hopefully it would be the Directors, so that I could conduct the preliminary meeting and then speak with them concerning Revelc Citanul. 

Moments later, the door to the waiting room slid open and two men in their mid to late thirties stepped in, deep in conversation and seemingly oblivious to their surroundings and my presence. The one on the right, half a step ahead of his companion, was tall and well muscled. His well toned face was dark, made more so by his black eyes and hair. The other man, at least a foot shorter than the first, was smaller and more compact. He had pale skin, brown eyes, and blond hair. Together, they contrasted with each other sharply.

Delving back into my memory, I scrounged up the pictures Qui-Gon had shown me of the two Directors. The taller, darker man was Alianter Macormick, and his associate was Syltris Natzo.

The two men were talking to each other rather loudly, about something obscure called "television", and were laughing and joking as if they had never had a single disagreement about anything in their entire lives, let alone one that could lead their peoples to the brink of war. What if…most of the general public didn't know they were having a disagreement? What if they were trying to keep it a secret for as long as possible to keep the tribes from rising up against each other before negotiations were attempted? 

The Directors', quite obviously enraptured by this conversation about the advantages of "television" as an hypnotic device, walked right through the waiting room and into their office without even glancing my direction. 

I turned to look at the secretary, who smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and gestured for me to follow them in.

Shaking my head, I turned and walked into their office after them. As soon as I was sure that I had caught their attention, I smiled, "Directors Macormick and Natzo," I bowed respectfully to each of them as I entered their large office, which consisted of two desks that were facing each other in the middle of the room, and a couch that was pushed up against the wall under a large window, "I am Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. My Master isn't feeling well but he has entrusted me with conducting the preliminary meeting between you."

The Directors couldn't have looked more surprised or confused if a marching band of Tarcalians had somersaulted into their office wearing pink tutu dresses and carrying a singing Master Yoda between them. And I couldn't have been more bewildered as to why they were so astounded. What, did they think it was unlikely that Qui-Gon would have assigned me, a young Padawan, this task?

The two shared a very long look before Director Macormick addressed me, "Padawan…Kenobi, I'm sorry, but we have no idea why you are here." He sounded clearly perplexed.

Now it was my turn to be shocked. Qui-Gon and I had come all the way here, had our vessel sabotaged, crash landed, traveled through a forest for four days while every night my Master had suffered terrible fits of pain, only to get here and have them not be expecting us?

Trying to sound as calm and accepting as I didn't feel, I responded, "My Master and I were called here to negotiate a treaty between the two of you because of a disagreement you're afraid could break the government you've established and lead to violence."

Director Syltris laughed, "My dear young fellow," he boomed, "Alianter and myself have been friends my entire life and although we may occasionally disagree, we have never had a serious dispute that would warrant involving the Jedi, and most certainly, neither of us contacted your Council."

I rocked back on my heels. I didn't have to perform a deep meditation or consult Qui-Gon to sense that they were telling the truth, and to feel the deep affection and friendship that they shared. I believed them.

I believed them, but I didn't understand. I didn't understand how reservations could have been made for us at the hotel, how we could have made it on the guest list for the Administration Complex, or how the secretary had had our appointment written in on the Directors' schedule without them having found out about this sooner. 

Could Revelc Citanul really have set this entire "mission" up simply to lure Jedi to this planet? Could he really have created this entire situation? He was the chief of security, but surely that didn't give him the clearance necessary to do all this. It would have been easy for him to slip us on the guest list, especially since he was the one admitting visitors, but how could he have made the reservations and appointments that the Directors' would have had to verify? Could he have hacked into the computers? Did he have the computer knowledge to bypass the expensive and sophisticated security system they ran on?

"Directors," I addressed them again, "I know this must seem odd, but I assure you that I am a Jedi and that my Master and I were called here for the reason I said. I would ask you to please trust and cooperate with me. If you must, you can contact the Council and they will confirm my identity."

"That will not be necessary, Padawan Kenobi," Director Macormick assured me, "What can we do for you?"

"First, I would like you to have a security team take Revelc Citanul into custody. I would also like you to order a scan of you entire computer system to see if it was hacked into. And, I would like access to all your personnel files." Now that there was no pending civil war that could endanger tens and thousands of lives, I didn't have to worry about ruining the "negotiations" by giving a bad first impression. 

"Revelc is our chief of security, can you give us a reason we should take him into custody?" Director Syltris asked.

"Yes," I nodded to him, "I have reason to believe that he sabotaged the shuttle my Master and I arrived on, forcing us to crash land." I decided to keep my explanation as brief as possible – I could tell them more later, right now I wanted him captured.

"Very well," Director Macormick agreed, "I will take care of the…arrest, and computer scan. Why don't you give him whatever information he wants?" he turned towards his friend, who nodded and gestured for me to follow him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Leaning back in the deceptively comfortable chair, I rubbed my eyes and attempted to alleviate some of the stress that had accumulated in my temples. As I no doubt should have expected, Revelc Cainam was nowhere to be found. He had most likely left as soon as I had entered the building, ready to initiate the next step in his plan that would supposedly end with our deaths. A security team had been sent to his home, but I knew that they wouldn't find him there. No, he was too clever to be in such an obvious place.

Part of my aggravation was directed at myself. Revelc Cainam had slipped through my fingers twice. Once at the hotel and once here. Both times, all I needed to have done was step forward and capture him. The first time I had, of course, ignored my instincts, and the second time I had purposefully decided _not_ to do anything because of the 'negotiations" that ended up not even existing. Now, I had no idea where he was or what he would do next.

Hoping to gain some notion as to why he was doing this, I had looked up all information on him. Aside from finding out that he had a degree in advanced computer programming and had first worked designing ships, the computer had offered little of relevance. Then I had tried looking up T'Sixe Tnodi, only to find that no such person existed. That assumed identity had most likely been a means by which he could ensure that I didn't speak with someone who might actually have relayed my request for a rescue team. He had probably rigged the communications system to contact him despite any input to do otherwise. His extensive computer knowledge would have made that, as well as the rest of the sabotage, ridiculously easy.

Besides telling me that we were dealing with a man of many talents, it revealed nothing. I still had no idea what his motives were, or what had driven him to such an intense hatred of the Jedi, for it certainly could not be Qui-Gon or myself he despised as we had never met or even seen him before arriving on this planet. I had no idea how to find and stop him before he carried out the rest of his plan.

It frustrated me so much. There was nothing more that I could think to do right now. He had no living family members and apparently no friends. No one knew him well enough to even possibly have any information as to why he wanted us dead. On top of that, I had absolutely no way of locating him. The building had already been searched three times and if he actually happened to be sitting in his home, waiting to be captured, it would be an act of the Force. So what was I supposed to do? Sit here and wait for him to attack?

I massaged my forehead and temples. Qui-Gon would know what to do, but he was back in the hotel room, probably in more pain than I wanted to even dream about. After a discussion that had nearly become an argument, he had convinced me that shielding me from him would be the best thing to do. That way I couldn't be distracted during the negations. However there were no 'negotiations' and I felt that sorely needed his advice. 

What would he tell me now? Probably that waiting was an art I needed to learn and that I should meditate and find my center so that I could be ready for when Revelc Cainam decided to strike next. After all, all I could deal with was the here and now, and an opportunity would prevent itself. 

All of that was perfectly wonderful advice that made sense, but…how could I meditate knowing that this man was out there, working to kill us? Wasn't there something else I could be actively _doing_?

Aside from being patient and waiting, what would he advise? Whenever we were stuck on a mission, what would he always and annoyingly have me do? Review all pertinent information to make sure that I hadn't overlooked something. Well, even if I didn't find anything new, it was better than just sitting around and waiting, that was for sure.

A piece of information, which at the time my Master had forced me to learn it had seemed useless, popped up in my head. On this planet there was a customary naming ritual upon reaching the year of adulthood where one could chose a different name. I had already known our saboteur by two names, what if he had a third?

Similar to the law on Coruscant which kept a person's criminal actions prior to the age of 18 in an inaccessible file so that they could not be used against the adult, all information regarding someone before his naming day was kept in a separate, classified file. However, I was confident that by using the Directors' office, and having been given clearance, I would be able to get at what I needed.

"Computer," I orally addressed the advanced computer system, "Is 'Revelc Cainam this man's birth name, or his chosen name?"

"Revelc Cainam is a chosen name," the automated, monotonic voice answered almost immediately.

"What was Revelc Cainam's birth name?" I prompted.

"Cramer Xirtam is Revelc Cainam's birth name."

I smiled. I might be getting somewhere now. "Then, computer, by all means, bring up all information on 'Cramer Xirtam'."

The computer beeped in response and a small screen of information appeared on the panel in front of me. The file on Cramer Xirtam was surprisingly empty. There was a brief summary that detailed where he had grown up and what schools he had attended, but other than that, there was nothing. That was odd. This file should have contained everything he had ever done until turning eighteen.

"Computer, why is Cramer Xirtam's so incomplete?"

"All remaining information is contained in his medical file, which can only be accessed by his psychologist."

Medical file? Psychologist? That perked my interest. Leaning forward onto the console, I pondered how I could gain access to that file. Medical files were strictly confidential between the patient and the doctor, but I had a strong feeling that what I needed to know was in there. Perhaps I could get in contact with his 'psychologist'.

"Computer, what psychologist did Cramer Xirtam see?"

"Doctor Ramóne Mercílo," it dictated unwaveringly.

Swirling the chair so that if faced the holocom that had been to my right, I directed the computer to contact Doctor Mercíilo and waited as the communication was routed through the necessary systems before the small, partly transparent form of an older gentleman appeared in front of me.

Doctor Mercíilo appeared to be in his early sixties and although he had lost most of his hair, and the little that remained around his years was thin and gray, his blue-green eyes were intense and focused. "Yes, how may I help you?" he asked in a soft, scratchy voice.

"Doctor Mercílo," I inclined my head respectfully, "I am Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I was wondering if I could speak to you regarding one of your previous patients."

"You know that I cannot break doctor-patient confidentiality," he warned me in a chiding tone, "but I will help you if I can."

"Doctor, I need all the information you can give me on a man named Cramer Xirtam. He would have been under eighteen years of age when…"

"There is no need to explain, I remember Cramer quite well," the man's eyes seemed distant, and his expression turned regretful, "he had such talent and potential, it was such a shame to see it wasted on hatred. He was one of the few people I couldn't help."

"Help with what, Doctor?" I prodded carefully, wondering how much he'd be willing to tell me. He had mentioned "hatred"…could it be that he had actually worked with Revelc Cainam regarding his "hate" towards the Jedi?

The man's eyes flashed with something that could have been annoyance, but when he answered his voice was perfectly calm, "I could be disbarred for telling you more. I'm sorry, but I cannot help you."

Of course he couldn't. Why had I ever thought otherwise? Had I actually expected him to break his vows? "I'm sorry, Doctor," I apologized softly, "and thank you." 

Sighing, I moved to terminate the transmission when the doctor exhaled softly and said, "Padawan Kenobi, if the matter concerns the security of (innocent civilians), the Directors do have the authority to violate patient-doctor confidentiality."

I smiled appreciatively. He had just helped me without breaking the law. If I could only convince the Directors that this was important enough for them to do that, then perhaps I could gain a deeper understanding of this man and his motives. 

"Thank you, Doctor Mercílo," I said again.

The aged Doctor nodded and simultaneously, we discontinued the transmission.

The door to Directors' office slid open with a soft whoosh, and I looked up to see both men walk in, immediately turning to address me. "Padawan Kenobi," Director Macormick began, "Our team of computer specialists has finished analyzing the system and has concluded that a very skilled computer expert did alter some files, but the changes were made so carefully that it is impossible to determine exactly what was done."

I wasn't surprised, especially not after finding out that he had studied computer programming. "Thank you," then I hesitated before asking, "Directors, would it be all at possible for you to give me access to the medical files of Cramer Xirtam – that is Revelc Cainam's birth name."

Director Macormick raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "Do you really believe that information will help you?"

"It is important for me to know everything about this man, not only so that I can determine _why_ he's out to kill my Master and I, but so that I can better know how to defeat his plan and capture him." It was always harder to fight against a stranger because then it was impossible to know his weaknesses and strengths. If I could learn enough about him, then I could use his weaknesses against him, and turn his strengths to my advantage. Or at least that was what Qui-Gon had taught me.

The two shared an unreadable glance before Director Syltris said, "We'll see what we can do."

~~~~~~~~~~

Cramer Xirtam's medical file was extremely long and detailed. It held over twenty pages of information and since I had no idea where to start, I began flipping through the pages while quickly skimming the contents, seeing if anything caught my eyes. Apparently, at the age of seventeen, his parents had institutionalized him because he would alternate from increasingly violent and volatile behavior, to staying hidden in his room while murmuring unintelligibly. Although Doctor Mercílo had quickly diagnosed him with an acute form of dementia brought on suddenly by a traumatic event in his life, he had been unable to determine exactly what that event had been. His notes indicated that Xirtam's parents had been unaware of anything disturbing having recently occurred and were of little help.

Nearly fifteen pages were spent describing Xirtam's actions and symptoms, most of which were stated in such advanced medical terms that it was little more than garble to me. It wasn't until the last few pages of the report that Doctor Mercílo stumbled upon what he termed a 'revelation' when, in one of his fits, Xirtam had babbled out what had been haunting him.

Feeling that I had finally found what I was looking for, I began to read the report aloud to myself. "A little less than a year ago, the new Directors Macormick and Natzo were sworn into office and a Jedi team was called upon to oversee the proceedings. The youngest Jedi, a Padawan by the name of Alyana Alizzer, was a little older than Cramer at the time, and by some happenstance, a cruel twist of fate, the two met and immediately took a liking to each other. The Jedi stayed here for almost two months, and during that time the young couple secretly began to date each other. 

"From what I can determine, their feelings soon grew from that of normal infatuation, and Padawan Alizzer was faced with a difficult choice. As a Jedi she was not allowed to have "attachments" – in other words, to fall in love and chose a mate – but she did not wish to leave Cramer. In the end, after an apparently heated argument between the two, Padawan Alizzer ended the relationship, saying that it should never have been, and left the planet with her Master. Cramer has not had any contact with her since that day, and shortly after that, his strange behavior began. From that point, it is evident that Cramer's anger towards Alizzer at choosing the Jedi way of life over him, intensified into a hatred of all Jedi, and the Jedi way in general."

I fell silent and lifted my gaze from the report. That explained it then. Our saboteur was using this as a means of gaining revenge for what Padawan Alizzer – Knight Alizzer now – had decided to do. He had loved her, and she had walked away. Understandably, that could be quite devastating, but for this man…it had been the catalyst towards insanity. I had always believed that the Jedi Code was overly strict on Jedi forming 'attachments'. Of course, it could lead to complications if the Jedi was more concerned with his or her family than his or her duty to the Order, but love was the most beautiful thing in the universe, and to deny even the chance of being able to have a family was harsh and, at least to me, unjust. However, it was the choice we all made when becoming Jedi, and Knight Alizzer had done what was right for herself. It was unfortunate that it had had this result.

The last paragraphs in the report spoke of Cramer's sudden 'turn around' in behavior. He no longer had fits of anger or violence, and spoke of making a new life for himself, and finding happiness elsewhere. When he had asked to be released from the institution, his behavior had warranted it, and Doctor Mercílo, with reservations, had been forced to allow it. The Doctor, apparently, had hoped for the man's happiness, but had seen past the façade enough to write this last foreboding sentiment:

My colleagues are thrilled at my 'breakthrough' with Cramer. They credit me for giving the man his life back, for erasing his insanity. I wish I could celebrate with them, but I fear that it may be premature. The loathing and fury is still inside him, he has only learned to suppress and control it. One day, I know these emotions will lead him to commit an egregious act of violence, or a total breakdown.

The Doctor had been right – our saboteur's anger and hatred was in the process of culminating. I only hoped that I could stop him, that I could prevent him from reaching his final goal. Qui-Gon's and my life depended it.

~~~~~~~~~

_I have no doubt whatsoever that when you learn to trust the Force at all times, you will become much more powerful and wise in it than I am_. Qui-Gon's words wrung in my mind with a persistent ferocity, reminding me of my greatest weakness as a Jedi. Time and time again I ignored my instincts and second-guessed myself instead of truly trusting the Force. At this moment, Revelc Cainam could have already been in custody and Qui-Gon and I could have been planning our return to the Temple. But we weren't, because I had ignored my instincts, and by so doing, ignored the Force.

It was a problem I needed to overcome. And if I planned to overcome it, I needed to start right away. I had to _trust_ the Force, not simply use it. Perhaps it would take years for me to change my way of thinking and relating to the Force, but I didn't have years. In fact, right now I didn't know how long I had before our saboteur struck again. If I had to wait for him to act, I might as well be prepared. I needed to be as deeply connected to the Force as possible, and that meant meditating.

Therefore, before contacting the Council to give them an update on our 'mission', I dropped to my knees in the center of the Directors' office and focused on calming myself and letting the Force sweep over me. Even when I was finished and I drifted back into wakefulness, I knew I wouldn't be anywhere near as in-tune as Qui-Gon was, but I knew I would be much better equipped to fight our foe. And maybe, just maybe, it would help me trust my instincts.

~~~~~~~~

As I stood in front of the activated holocom, waiting for Yoda to pick up, I felt much calmer and less impatient than I had before meditating. I also felt more relaxed in my connection to the Force. I could feel and sense things more clearly, and it gave me somewhat of a sense of peace. I knew I wasn't about to trust the Force as Qui-Gon wanted me to, but as long as I kept myself open to it, and reminded myself to let it guide me, I would begin to. For now, that had to be the important thing.

There was the buzzing hiss of static just before Yoda's and Mace Windu's partly see-through forms appeared floating above the holocom. The transmission didn't allow for enough clarity to truly judge their emotions by reading the expressions on their faces, but through my slightly heightened connection to the Force I could feel their relief and joy.

"Padawan Kenobi, it pleases us greatly to hear from you," Mace Windu addressed me before I could speak, "we have been worried for you and your Master."

Worried? Why had they been worried? It was not uncommon for Qui-Gon to take more than a week before reporting in to the Council. Even when things went wrong, he usually did not inform them right away. Had we been expected to do differently on this mission?

"Forgive us for not reporting in sooner," I apologized hesitantly, "but we have experienced…problems, and only reached the city this morning."

Mace Windu raised an inquisitive eyebrow and shared a stern look with Yoda, "Where are you and Master Jinn, Padawan?" he finally asked.

Now I was truly confused. "We're on Ceerus, in the capital city." Where else would we be? We couldn't very well complete our mission to resolve the 'situation', which consequently didn't exist, between the Directors if we didn't come to their planet.

The Force was filled with their surprise, but I still did not know the reason for it. 

"Tell us, Padawan Kenobi, exactly why are you on Ceerus? Your last mission was on Seltec, and ended nearly a week ago. You were expected back at the Temple days ago and since we did not hear from you, we thought that something had happened." 

Mace Windu's voiced faded into the back of my head as I realized what had happened. I had thought that Revelc Cainam had fooled the Council into thinking that a Jedi team needed to be dispatched on a mission to this planet, but I was wrong. There wasn't a mission, there never had been.

Our saboteur hadn't tricked the Council, he had tricked us. Sometimes the Council delivered mission orders in code – not a visual transmission – and he must have found a way to fake that code. Having received written orders, Qui-Gon and I had never had any reason to speak with the Council, and had thus never discovered the deception.

Revelc Cainam's anger towards the Jedi had grown and built inside him throughout the many years since he had been left by Alyana. Now it had driven him to seek revenge against the Jedi and the rules that had kept her from him. He had planned this out so carefully, and Qui-Gon and I had fallen right into his trap.

"Padawan Kenobi," his voice had lost some of its confusion and was now more persistent, "what diverted you to Ceerus?"

I was about to answer him, and explain everything that had happened, when a growing, chilly darkness in the Force stopped me cold. I had been waiting for our saboteur to strike again, and I suddenly knew that somehow, he was in the process of doing just that. I could just feel it. There was great danger encroaching upon us now.

Swiftly, I turned and inspected the room. Everything was silent, and aside from the flickering, buzzing transmission of Mace Windu and Yoda, I was alone. There appeared to be no immediate threat, and yet I knew that there was. I couldn't tell whether it was to Qui-Gon or myself, but it was looming above us like a cloud of destruction.

Yoda said something, but the words floated around aimlessly, refusing to be processed by my brain as my body slowly tensed in response to the knowledge of lurking danger. I had to end this transmission and be ready for whatever Revelc Cainam had planned. So far he had beaten us at every turn – I had to stop him before he could do it again.

Focusing my attention back on the Council Members, I opened my mouth to offer some sort of quick explanation, but then, before I could speak, I saw it. Sitting on the windowsill, appearing as innocuous as the rest of the things in the Directors' office, was a red timepiece. A simple red timepiece, and yet it made a shrieking alarm sound within me. It filled me with a rush of dread and sinister doom. It sent flying flashes of burning ruble tumbling before my eyes. It conjured images of Qui-Gon's body, falling amongst a cloud of debris. It made me stop breathing.

The dream… There had been an explosion in my nightmare… Qui-Gon had been killed… I had lost control… I had shattered the window… A red timepiece had fallen to the floor, breaking… It had all been so real… So real… It had terrified me… Now, that same horror crept back into my heart.

Brushing past the holocom, I ignored the questioning voices of both Mace Windu and Yoda, and rushed to the widow to look out. It overlooked a street, and across the street was the hotel. The same hotel where Qui-Gon was. The same hotel that had been in my dream. No, not a dream, a _vision_. A vision of a future that would certainly happen if I didn't do something to stop it, if I didn't do something to save my Master.

Or was it already too late?

TBC… (on Thursday)


	9. Twists of Fate

Hi everyone!  As always, I'm very grateful for your FB and I'm happy that you're enjoying the story!  Hopefully, it won't disappoint.  Congrats to those of you who figured out Revelc Cainam's name! ^_^

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Nine: Twists of Fate ~

**Obi-Wan:**

What could I use from my dream to help me? I had had a timer in my hand, it had beeped zero just before the explosion. I didn't have a timer now… Could that mean there was still time? Time! What time had it been in my dream? What time had the clock shown, as it lay shattered on the floor? What time had it shown just after the explosion? 

I wracked my memory, searching for the image. Twelve noon. It had been twelve noon. Twelve noon, and my Master had already been dead. What time was it now? Did I have time, or was it too late?

I looked back at the timepiece, and my heart clenched.

It was ll:50.

I only had ten minutes.

Spinning around, I started to jog out of the room and ran directly into the two Directors, who were calmly walking in. Both of them were totally startled and knocked back a few paces, but quickly recovered to fix me with un-amused, questioning stares.

"Directors," I purposefully did not hide the urgency from my voice, "there is a bomb in the hotel across the street. It's going to go off in ten minutes, you need to have the building evacuated _now_."

Without giving them a chance to answer, I skirted around them and quickened my pace to a brisk walk. I needed to get to the hotel and make sure that everyone was evacuated, especially Qui-Gon and the doctor. However…there was something else. In my dream, I had had the timer. The timer to the bomb. I didn't have it now, so how had I gotten it?

_We found the timer in Revelc Cainam's rooms The_ voice came back to me in a flash of memory. This _vision_ had been less clear – merely a confused wash of distorted images – but that same thing had been said throughout the whole thing.

I abruptly came to a stop and swirled, "Also, have a security team search Revelc Cainam's rooms for the timer. When the find it, have them bring it to me, I'll be at the hotel…"

Director Macormick interrupted me in a tone of voice that bordered on amused impatience, "Padawan Kenobi, as we were coming in here to tell you, we found this timer in Revelc Cainam's rooms," he stepped forward and handed me the small device, "and, in case you were wondering, he was not at his home."

Taking the timer, I muttered a hasty 'thank you', and ran from the room. As I was sidestepping startled people and hastily plowing my way into the turbo descenders, I risked a quick glance down at the angry red numbers of the timer, and saw that I had a little less than nine minutes left.

Once in the turbo, I had to forcefully stop myself from pacing back and forth in the small, confining area. Instead, I examined the timer, turning it over in my hands to see if there was anything suspicious. It was then that I noticed the small piece of paper that had been folded up and attached to it.

Yanking the note off, I opened it to see what it said. As I read the haunting words, I heard Revelc Cainam's voice repeating them in my head, bringing back more flashes of memory from my dream.

_Jedi are bound by their traditions and their rules. A Jedi may not feel fear, a Jedi may not feel hatred, a Jedi may not even feel love. You so called 'Guardians of Peace' are trapped in a life of loneliness and now I will put your Master out of his misery forever._

In my dream, the voice – _his_ voice – had said that to me just after the explosion. Revelc Cainam had wanted me to find this timer, and the note, when it was already too late to save Qui-Gon. He had wanted me to know, seconds before my Master's death, that he had outsmarted me. But I had it early, maybe early enough to save him.

The turbo stopped moving and I squeezed through the doors as they opened, rushing through the lobby, desperate to get to the hotel and make sure Qui-Gon was safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Doctor!" I yelled out ahead of me as I was rounding the corner into our hotel room.

"Padawan Kenobi," he answered me when I entered, his words ringing with strained unease, "What is this about evacuating the hotel?"

I stopped in the doorway to Qui-Gon's room, pausing momentarily to regain my breath before shooting a glance around. My Master, with at least ten different tubes running from him to the machine, was tied to the bed by restraints that bound his hands and ankles. Drenched in sweat, he was shaking so violently that the bed was rattling on the floor. Some sort of stick had been placed in his mouth, to prevent him from biting down on his tongue.

It wasn't, however, the deathly pale tint of his skin, or his ragged breaths, or even the jerking of his body, that turned my heart to an icicle of fear. It was the fact that the doctor hadn't even begun preparing to move him.

I glanced down at the timer. There were only six minutes left.

What was the doctor doing? Everyone else was already leaving the building.

"Doctor," I ground out every word I spoke, "there is a bomb somewhere in this building that's going to off in just over five minutes. We need to get Qui-Gon out of here _now_."

"As I told you before, Dorasyne is an extremely powerful drug. If I just suddenly stop his treatment, his body will go into shock and he could die." 

A shudder ran through me at those words. Revelc Cainam had planned this out completely. He wanted Qui-Gon dead. He wanted me to know I hadn't been able to save him. He had made sure that one way or the other – as a result of the illness, the treatment, or the bomb – he would die. After that was accomplished, then he was going to come after me. 

Having him die in an explosion or in a drug-induced shock…which was worse? 

However, the doctor had said he 'could' die, not that he _would_ die. My Master was strong, he would fight with every last breath to stay alive, just as I would fight with everything I had to help him. There was still a way out of this – there was always a way out. "Doctor," I whispered emphatically, "if we don't get him out of here, he _will_ die."

The doctor's gaze fell to Qui-Gon, "I've already begun decreasing the amounts of Dorasyne being filtered into his system, but it'll take at least another ten minutes before it's a safe enough level to disconnect him."

"We don't have ten minutes, we have five," I said tersely, "disconnect him."

He seemed hesitant, clearly unwilling to harm his patient in any way, but finally the severity of the situation seemed to dawn on him, and he nodded. Striding over to the machine, he turned it off and quickly pulled the tubes from Qui-Gon's body. Then he carefully lifted my Master's shaking form into his arms and prepared to carry him from the room.

I released a long breath, and with it dispensed of the tension and worry that had filled me. There were still five minutes left – more than enough time for the doctor to get my Master out of the building. Everyone else had no doubt already been evacuated. Unless I could find the bomb, the hotel would be lost, but at least no one would die. 

Qui-Gon had taught me how to disarm bombs. If I knew where it was, then I had no doubt that I could deactivate the triggering sequence. The problem was finding where it was hidden, and it could have been anywhere. And then again, no, not really. His goal in this whole thing was to kill Jedi – in this case, Qui-Gon and myself. He would have put the bomb in our rooms. After all, he had made the reservations, so he knew where we were staying. 

I looked around the suite. There were still a million places to hide a bomb here. In one of the many cabinets, in the food dispensers, in the bedding…it could be virtually anywhere. I didn't have time to search through the whole room; I would simply leave with the doctor and Qui-Gon. The Order would no doubt pay for the repairs and…

"Obi-Wan!" the doctor's use of my first name drew my attention even quicker than the fear that was clearly evident in his voice, and in the wild look that he gave me when I met his gaze.

The tricklings of worry began to seep through me again. "What?"

The doctor gestured towards the doorway that led from the suite to the hallway. Then he carefully extended his hand and tried to push it through the opening, only to be met by a light buzzing and the momentary appearance of a shimmering red wall that extended across the entrance. 

A force-field! Somehow a force-field had been erected across the door. But how, and when? I had just entered, and it obviously hadn't been there, or I wouldn't even have been able to get in. Buildings were often built with force-fields that would automatically activate to enclose and contain a fire, but there was no reason for it to have activated before the explosion. 

Emergency protocols…of course! The containment force-fields could all be activated from the control center, which was probably in the lobby, if some sort of emergency was perceived. The receptionist no doubt believed that everyone had evacuated the building, and was trying to contain the damage as much as possible. Normally, that would have been a very good idea, to try and keep the people and transports on the streets from getting hit by flying pieces of burning debris, but now it virtually damned us for it meant that all other computer functions had been shut down in order to maintain the shields. There was no way to contact anyone and have them deactivate them. Our only hope was for me to find that bomb and deactivate it, and now I only had three minutes left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sparing a glance at the timer, I saw that only two minutes remained. Two minutes and the doctor and I had yet to find the bomb. We were almost frantically searching through the rooms, dumping the contents of cabinets and drawers onto the floor, but we had little hope of locating it in the time we had left. The room was already a disaster zone – objects lay strewn across the floor, forming an obstacle course of sorts – and yet there were still so many places it could be. _Too_ many places.

Feeling despair bubble within me, I found myself staring out the window in our rooms. The view was of the street, where transports and people were rushing about their lives, hurrying to get to work, or go home, completely unaware of what was going on. It suddenly seemed to put everything in context, making me realize how small my problems really were in the grand scheme of things. 

My eyes darted further, aimlessly drifting across the scene before me. Beyond the street was...a power plant? Wait… Sudden realization dawned within me. This room was on the opposite end of the hotel, _not_ the end that faced the Complex of Administration, which meant that in my vision, it had been a different room I had seen explode.

Of course! How in the universe could I have missed it? The receptionist had told us that our room had accidentally been given to someone else! _That_ was why Revelc Cainam had been so insistent on changing the security measures…he had no doubt discovered the error and wanted to move the bomb, but hadn't been admitted.

The bomb wasn't in this room; it was in the room we were originally supposed to be staying in, on the other side of the hotel. That meant that we would be spared the brunt of the explosion. Of course, my vision had shown me that the bomb was too powerful for it to matter. We still wouldn't escape its wrath, we would just have more time to contemplate our destruction. Wonderful, instead of dying in the initial blast, we could suffocate to death when the shields failed. I always had preferred slow, painful death over an instant one. 

I rubbed my face with a cold, stiff hand. I had no place for those thoughts right now. The force-fields wouldn't last long against the force of the explosion – maybe a few milliseconds – but that could possibly be enough to save us. All they had to do was sufficiently contain the explosion so that when they went out, the rush of fire, heat, and smoke wouldn't kill us. Then, once they dropped, we might have a chance of escaping the hotel before it was too late. It wasn't much to hold onto, but it was something.

That renewed flicker of hope seemed to clear my thoughts, which had before been focused solely on finding the bomb, and suddenly I was remembering my classes in basic computer operation. The force-fields were already up and could only be deactivated from the control center, but they could be _modified_ from any computer in the hotel. If I could somehow form a linkup to the computers in the Complex of Administration, I could transfer enough power to all of the force-fields so that they would be strong enough to withstand the explosion. Then it would be contained in the main suite.

I knew I could do it, but could I do it in less than two minutes? I wasn't that adept with computers – I would have to really think about everything I did, trying to remember what I had been taught at the Temple – and the clock was ticking.

An abrupt, wrenching fit of coughs tore through my Master's body, momentarily diverting my attention. Qui-Gon was laying on the floor, near the door where the doctor had left him. Horribly strong convulsions made his arms and legs spasm, kicking and slapping against the floor, and one look at him told me that they had increased in their devastating affects. He was going into shock, just as the doctor said he would, but somehow that thought didn't fill me with fear or dread, it only sparked the birth of a single thought within me.

_Trust your_ _instincts_.

Qui-Gon had told me I needed to trust the Force completely, allow it to always guide my actions. Now was the time. I had to remain calm. I was starting to let my emotions overwhelm me, but I couldn't do that. Not if I wanted to save our lives. I had to open myself to the Force and let its power complement my own wisdom. The knowledge of how to strengthen the force-fields was in me, I simply needed to believe in what I was doing and not doubt my actions and instincts. I had to let the Force move my fingers and not second guess myself. I had to do it to save Qui-Gon, and myself.

Quickly scooting over to the nearest computer console, I placed my fingers over it and closed my eyes. Reaching out to the Force, I let it flow through me. The shrill cry of its warning was the loudest thing I could feel, but I searched beyond it to find the serenity it always contained. Then I let that peace chase the anxiety and fear away, opening myself to it so that it could guide me like it always would, if I only let it. 

Opening my eyes, I began to input instructions into the computer, trusting myself and the pull of the Force. What I had learned years ago at the Temple gave me the knowledge I needed to do this, and following the Force let me do it faster than I ever could have, had I forced myself to think about every little thing I did. My connection wasn't anywhere near as powerful as it had been on the shuttle, but it was enough. Enough to save our lives.

~~~~~~~~~~

I released an exhausted bark of laughter into the silence that had fallen over everything in the wake of the terribly loud blast and the buzzing of the shields as they had worked against the balls of flame and fire. I had done it. I couldn't believe it, but I had done it. Somehow, in less than two minutes, I had formed an uplink and transferred enough power to the force-fields so that they had been able to contain the explosion. 

"Padawan Kenobi," the young doctor's voice seemed tentative, and I felt a shaky hand grip my shoulder.

Coughing softly to clear my throat, I turned to Doctor Marcof and smiled, "Yes, what is it?"

His eyes darted down to Qui-Gon, who was coughing so powerfully that blood was trickling from the corners of his mouth. Restlessly tossing his head from side to side, no doubt completely unaware of his movements or his surroundings, his bloodshot eyes were dancing across the room, never stopping long enough to focus. The convulsions had stopped, but the Force and my own eyes told me that he had only gone deeper into shock.

"I'm going to hook him back up. As soon as he receives more Dorasyne, the shock to his system should lessen, but I still can't give him anything for the pain and I'll have to start the treatment over again," he glanced at the machine, which was still standing at Qui-Gon's bedside, surrounded by the things we had carelessly thrown aside when searching for the bomb. "It has its own separate backup power source, but it will only last for so long. We need to get him to a hospital so that we can continue his treatment in peace."

I nodded, "I understand, thank you."

Kneeling down at Qui-Gon's side, I touched my hand to his face, stilling his movements. I wasn't sure if he even knew I was there, but if he did, I wanted him to know everything would be okay. "Qui-Gon," I whispered, leaning down to look into his rapidly-moving eyes, "I'm here. I know it hurts, but you're safe, and I won't let anything happen to you."

My Master blinked, and when his eyelids fluttered open again, I was surprised to see him gazing at me intently. "Obi-Wan…" he managed to gasp out. 

Force, I swallowed hard, despite all the pain, he was still aware, still completely conscious. "Yes, Master," I took his hand, squeezing it.

He slowly threw a glance about the room, no doubt taking in its disheveled state, as well as my own, and then teasingly said, "Obi-Wan, can't you ever stay out of trouble?"

I laughed and then grinned, "At least I'm still on my feet."

His eyes twinkled and he tightened his hand feebly around my own. For a moment, we shared the humor and affection between us, but then his breath was stolen away by another round of coughing, and his eyes resumed their aimless search of the room. No doubt he had retreated back to continue releasing the pain into the Force, having only emerged to confirm my own words and show that he would indeed be all right.

~~~~~~~~~

Shaking my head, I stopped momentarily to gaze at my Master, who was reclining comfortably in the hospital bed, before resuming my restless pacing of the room. "I should have known," I continued berating myself, "I should have sensed that things weren't as they seemed," I sighed, exasperated at myself more than anything else, "I shouldn't have ignored my instincts!"

It had taken about five minutes for the rescue teams to arrive and safely lead us from the hotel, and another five minutes to take us to the hospital, but in that short time I had felt my calmness evaporating as I thought of all the mistakes I had made that had made it that much easier for Revelc Cainam to nearly steal my Master away. 

My frustration towards my own actions had only continued to mount as the doctor reconnected Qui-Gon to the machine and began administering just enough Dorasyne to bring him out of shock, but not enough for the treatment, or to cause him pain. Qui-Gon had asked for a few moments to recuperate before beginning again, and the doctor had left us alone. As soon as the door had shut behind him, and his soft footsteps had faded into silence, I had begun rebuking myself before my own Master had the chance.

I knew, even as I felt my irritation mounting with my harsh words, that this was unbecoming of a Jedi, that I needed to meditate and calm myself, but I simply couldn't contain my self directed aggravation any longer. I needed to vent – I couldn't help it – couldn't calm myself long enough to release my emotions any other way. 

"First," I turned when I reached the end of the room and began walking the other way, "in the hotel, I felt something…dark about Revelc Cainam, and instead of doing something about it, I buried the emotions and let him go. Then, in the Complex of Administration, I had him _right there_ again, and because of a non-existent mission, I didn't do anything." Qui-Gon looked as if he was about to speak, but I cut him off, "Not only that, but even knowing who he was, I _told_ him that you were in our rooms. No doubt giving him the only confirmation he needed to activate that bomb."

I fell silent for a few moments. Qui-Gon, hesitating briefly to see if I would continue my criticism, opened his mouth to begin talking, only to have me cut him off. "If I had been paying more attention, if I had been more in tune with the Force, I would have sensed that there was nothing wrong on this planet, and I would have taken Revelc Cainam into custody. Instead, he almost managed to kill you, he's still out there, and we have no way of finding him!"

"Obi-Wan," my Master finally said something, "I didn't sense that anything was amiss with our 'mission' either…"

"You weren't feeling well," I intersected, "Force, Qui-Gon, you'd been having frequent fits of pain and you weren't completely clear minded even when you weren't," even my Master couldn't claim that he hadn't been distracted by that, "I, on the other hand, was feeling fine. I should have been able to sense something, or I at least should have paid attention to what the Force was trying to tell me."

"You're being too hard on yourself, Padawan," he tried to reason with me soothingly, "Even if you hadn't ignored your instincts in the hotel, you wouldn't have been able to do anything for the same reasons you couldn't when you identified the man in the Complex of Administration. There was no reason for you to believe the mission was a sham – you did the right thing by trying to protect the negotiations."

"Right, sure," I said sardonically, "that's why he's still out there and you're in a hospital."

Qui-Gon sighed and he fixed me with a gaze that chastised me more than anything he could have said. "Obi-Wan," he was now using the tone of voice that brooked no argument, "come here and sit down."

Realizing it wasn't a request, I did as he asked and waited for him to speak. 

"Padawan," he whispered, then, with a touch of his hand against my neck, urged me to rest my head on his chest. I resisted, momentarily, but then let myself be pulled down. Tensely laying my head down, I remained stiff and on edge. "Relax," his fingers began to gently massage my scalp and shoulders. Even though aggravation was burning within me, I couldn't help but lean into the touch, and let some of my anxiety go.

"Good," he spoke softly, "now listen to me. You're looking at your actions and seeing only the negative. No one is perfect, Obi-Wan, everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes we don't sense within the Force what we should; it happens to all of us. It's no reason to scold yourself so. You've done well in this mission. Remember, _you _used your vision to work against the saboteur, and _you_ strengthened the force-field to save us."

I shook my head, "No, we were lucky. If we had been given the correct suite, we would have been trapped there when the bomb went off and we would have all died. This guy has everything planned out; it was just a twist of fate that saved us."

I heard and felt Qui-Gon's deep sigh, "Obi-Wan, the fact is that we _were_ given the wrong suite and you _did_ save us. You can't start second-guessing fate. You don't know what would have happened had we been given the correct one. We can only deal with what did happen. We weren't where the saboteur had planned for us to be, and you trusted your instincts and saved us with the force-fields."

Qui-Gon's attempts at reassurance were not working and I disagreed again, "I always let myself be easily manipulated by fear. Instead of staying calm, I let my emotions cloud me. It weakens my connection to the Force, and then, even when I am in tune with it, I ignore my instincts. I…" I choked on the words, but forced myself to say them anyway, "I-I'm not anything like…you. Y-you're always so calm, so in control. I'm not…worthy of your teachings."

In one way or another, those thoughts had been on my mind throughout this entire mission. Sometimes I had full confidence in my abilities, but all too quickly my emotions could sway. Sometimes I could see that it was only because I had more to learn, and that eventually I would reach the level of Qui-Gon, but at other times, like these, I simply couldn't stop myself from feeling this way. 

It felt like I never did anything right, and like Qui-Gon never erred. When I was emotional, he was calm; when I didn't know what to do, he had all the answers; when I was disconnected from the Force, he trusted and used it always; and when I was weak, he was always so strong. Sometimes it felt like I would never be half the Jedi he was.

I felt a spark of surprise through our bond, but it was quickly clamped down. When he spoke though, my Master's words were so abruptly sharp that it startled me. "Obi-Wan," his voice was urgent, "don't ever say that again. That's not true."

"Yes, it is," I pouted sullenly.

His hand stilled and came to rest on my hair, a gentle pressure that conveyed the strength of his emotions, "No, it's not anywhere near the truth," he sighed, "Padawan, we've talked about this. You're only eighteen. I've had years more experience and time to learn, you can't compare yourself to me. You _will_ surpass me one day, you just have to give yourself time. You…you're always so eager, Obi-Wan, and you push yourself so hard. And it's wonderful to see that drive in you, but it leads you to be too harsh on yourself, to judge yourself so critically."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," I mumbled.

"No," his voice was loud and denying, "No, I'm saying it because it's the truth. Obi-Wan, it took time for you to learn to control your anger. Fear, creeping, insidious, and lurking in every shadow, is a harder foe to master. You are calm and trust the Force when you have to, and that's a beginning."

"I let myself be captured so easily by the Tarcalians," I said self-deprecatingly, "and I almost let you be killed."

"You crash-landed the shuttle, you fought off the destroyer droid calmly, and you trusted your instincts and saved us at the hotel," he countered just as readily, "You are learning and growing all the time. You should be proud of what you've accomplished. You think that I was always as I am today? When I was your age, I had the same fears, and my own problems to overcome. Even now, I am not perfect. I make mistakes, and I am still learning – always learning. You're very skilled, and while it's important to see your faults so that you can improve, you can't take it to the point where that's all you see."

He paused and breathed deeply for a few moments. When he spoke again, he emphasized each and every word, "I've said this before, and I'll say it again. You cannot expect to be at the skill level of a Master without having gone through the lessons to reach it." 

Pulling gently on my head, he tenderly coaxed my chin up until I was looking at him. "Do you understand, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes," I said rather meekly, "I understand." And I did understand. Logically, what he said made sense and I had told myself the same things. My mind easily accepted that. It was my heart that refused to believe me. It was my heart that conjured these fears, doubts, and uncertainties, and it was my heart I would have to teach to understand. Unfortunately, more often than not, it was my heart that ruled my feelings.

Holding his hand to my chest, I felt my frustration draining from me only to be replaced by drained mental exhaustion, and acute embarrassment. Force, I was continually shaming myself with these ridiculous outbursts. A blush painted my cheeks, but I refused to let myself look down, and instead I said, "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. Thank you, I will try to make my heart understand."

A kind smile touched his lips, and I knew he understood, "I'm always here," he reminded me, filling me with gratitude at being his friend, and warmth at knowing how devoted he was to me.

The rich, joyful sound of Qui-Gon's merry laughter suddenly filled the room, surprising me. Feeling his mirth brought a smile to my lips, as seeing him happy made me happy, but I couldn't understand the source of it.

"What?" I questioned a little playfully when he stopped.

He grinned, and I could tell he was about to tease me, "You always were an odd apprentice, you know that? You do everything backwards! Force, during the bomb crisis you remained relatively calm, but afterwards, when we're in no immediate danger, you get all frustrated and annoyed. Instead of feeling proud of what you did with the force-fields, you start criticizing yourself. At this rate, when you're knighted, you won't be able to stop from telling the entire Council how bad a knight you'll make."

I blushed furiously, but smiled anyway, realizing he was right. My actions really had made little sense. One would have thought that I'd of been _happy_ because of what I had done, instead of launching into an intense analysis of everything I had done wrong. I tried to come up with a quick retort, but thought of nothing clever to say, so instead I just fixed him with a pretend-glare. 

"I would like to meditate before I continue the treatment," Qui-Gon said, once again the serious, dignified Master, "I believe it would do both of us good."

"Yes, Master," I agreed, "I could use your help in finding my center."

"And I could use your help in strengthening myself for the pain," he said, telling me with his deep, piercing cobalt eyes that our partnership wasn't one-sided and that I helped and taught him as well. 

Thinking about what Qui-Gon would have to endure didn't make me happy, but I joked anyway, "What? The ever-wise, mighty Qui-Gon Jinn isn't actually invincible?"

He gave me a mock look of despair, "Oh no, my cover is blown."

We both laughed.

TBC… (on Sunday)


	10. A Voice in the Dark

Hi everyone! Here's the next part and I'm sorry for the delay in posting it. I hope you like it and thanks for reading!  Oh, BTW, Cerasi5, don't worry about not reviewing for each part, I'm glad you like the story so much. =D  Thanks for the FB!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Ten: A Voice in the Dark ~

**Obi-Wan:**

The meditation was exceedingly helpful, and I couldn't help but feel a fool for the things I had been saying, and the way I had been acting. Qui-Gon was a Jedi Master, why in the world did I ever think that I should be as skilled as he was when I was only eighteen? Now that I was calm again, I could think about things clearly and I understood two things: first, I was much more skilled than I had been giving myself credit for, and second, that I would no doubt feel that way again. After all, mood swings sure came rapidly. Too rapidly. It was something I was going to have to learn to deal with. One of the many things I was going to have to change and improve upon.

Right now, however, I had other things to do. As much as I had wanted to stay with Qui-Gon and be there for him, I knew that I had to find Revelc Citanul. Despite the fact that we had ended up in the hotel room that didn't have the bomb, he had nearly managed to achieve his goal. Whatever he had planned next would no doubt be even more insidious, especially since he had failed to kill my Master. 

I had to stop him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Knowing that Revelc Cainam wanted Qui-Gon to die before me, so that I would have to live with the knowledge that I hadn't been able to save him, I debated with myself as to whether or not I should stay at the hospital and make sure he was safe. Eventually I had decided that since Qui-Gon was supposed to have died in the hotel, the saboteur wouldn't have anything planned for killing him at the hospital, and it would take him a while to reorganize and strike again. 

That would give me enough time to return to the Complex of Administration and search his rooms for anything that might help me locate him, or give a hint as to what he might do next. In my place, I had left four guards in the hospital room. I didn't think there would be any problems, at least not before I returned, but one never could be too careful. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Mostly, Revelc Cainam's office was filled with papers regarding security and things that concerned his job at the Complex. There were also a few books – mystery novels mostly – and some holovids that I had never heard of, but nothing unusual or suspicious, and certainly nothing that would help me.

It wasn't until I located a secret vault, hidden under the floor panels of the room, that I found what I had been looking for. The safe was relatively small, but inside it I found detailed schematics of the ship Qui-Gon and I had arrived in, as well as charts showing exactly what he had done to sabotage it. Most of it was technical babble that I couldn't understand, but it made me realize how truly complicated his changes had been. The man must have spent hours conceiving them, and another few days actually putting them into practice.

There were also diagrams of the hotel, as well as a list of many different places a bomb could be hidden. Force, he had even considered the pros and cons of each location until finally settling on the master suite, in the air vents. Catalogs of thousands of different types of explosives were attached to the maps of the hotel, and with a sick feeling I realized he had chosen to construct one of the smallest, most powerful bombs ever created. 

Placing the piles of papers on the floor next to me, I caught site of a pair of micrel seatbelts. They were dull grey, just like…just like the shuttle! Force, it couldn't be, could it? These couldn't be the seatbelts from the shuttle? I had made some joke about the shuttle having been made without them but it had never occurred to me that they had been removed. And they had been. Revelc Cainam had thought of everything.

Suddenly it dawned on me how much he had put into this little scheme for revenge. I had known that he had planned it all out, but this…this was beyond anything I could have imagined. He hadn't just planned it out, he had considered every option and nuance. He must have spent months going over everything, wasting his life away because he believed that the Jedi Order, with its many rules and regulations, had kept him from being with the woman he loved. It was…chilling to think about all the trouble he had gone to. It was chilling to realize how deep his commitment to this was.

"Hey Tiont!" a loud man's bellow distracted me from my search, sounding like it was coming from down the hallway "A Tarcalian ship has been found hidden in the old abandoned transport station, and at least four of the monsters have been seen in the surroundings. The Directors have ordered security troops to detain them, we have to go!"

"Be right there, chief," another man yelled back, and a few seconds after his words I heard loud footsteps as he joined his companion and the two passed the entrance to the office I was in. Soon, their voices dwindled back into silence and I turned my attention back to the vault.

There was only once paper left inside.

Gingerly reaching forward, I grabbed the sheet and turned it over to see what it was. On the paper I saw that our saboteur had drawn out the schematics for another building. At first glance it didn't seem familiar to me, but when I saw the scribbled labels that marked the rooms as 'intensive care units,' I felt my blood run cold. It was a diagram of the hospital…the hospital where Qui-Gon was.

Force, I was a fool! 

I had assumed that it would take him a while to plan his next move and had never considered that he would have already plotted what to do if one of us ended up in the hospital. Not once of us, _Qui_-_Gon_. He was the one who had infected Qui-Gon with that disease; he had no doubt considered the possibility that he would not stay in the hotel room, but go to the hospital for treatment. He had probably been ready for him at both places from the very beginning.

What if he had a second bomb there? The thought nearly made my heart stop. Not only would Qui-Gon be killed, but countless innocent people who were being treated there would also die. Only now I had no vision to help me save them, no dream to tell me whether it was a bomb or something else, and no way of knowing whether he had already struck.

I ran my fingers over the cold, smooth paper and an electric shock seemed to buzz through my hand and up my body. It wasn't truly electricity, I wasn't being electrocuted, it was like the Force was literally shocking me with its warning. I could not only sense the dark tension creeping through it, I could sense it hunting and consuming me.

Instantly, I was on my feet and running from the room. I had to get back to the hospital.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hospital was in walking distance, but not close enough that it wouldn't be a waste of precious time. As soon as I had reached the street, I had flagged down an airtaxi to take me there. It would take less than five minutes to reach the hospital, but I wasn't going to spend that time sitting nervously, thinking about how I had saved Qui-Gon only to abandon him back to the mercy of the saboteur within less than a half hour. Instead, I decided to do something I never before had done in the middle of a crisis.

I decided to meditate.

I knew, first hand, that remaining calm and in tune with the Force was a Jedi's greatest weapon – one I had used to land the shuttle and save us from the bomb – and it was time to take that knowledge to heart. For Qui-Gon's sake, as well as my own.

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as I set foot in the hospital, the foreboding cry of the Force became a scream. I could feel the tension within these walls, could sense how the very essence of the Force, and every fiber in my body, was telling me to go faster, to go to Qui-Gon's side as quickly as I could. 

Responding to its silent demand, I quickened the pace of my jogging until I was all but sprinting down the hospital corridors. Everyone – all the doctors and nurses – heard me coming and moved out of the way before I could plow into them. Soon I was turning the corner into the ward where Qui-Gon was.

I could not stop the surprise or worry from stabbing at my heart when I saw that the guards I had posted at the entrance of Qui-Gon's room were gone, but my connection to the Force was still singing from my meditation and the emotions quickly filtered out of me.

Revelc Cainam had already been here.

I stepped forward and the motion triggered the doors to slide open, allowing me access to the room. Throwing my senses outward, I could sense Qui-Gon's Force signature, but it was very weak. Not weak because he was dying, but weak because it was only a remnant on the man's powerful presence.

Even before I entered to confirm with my eyes what I had already felt, I knew that my Master was not there, but even still, I looked about the room anyway. The place had been ransacked. Medical supplies lay scattered across the floor, and the empty bed had been turned over, leaving the once clean white sheets tangled around the upward pointed legs. 

The tubes that had connected my Master to the machine had been thrown to the floor, and the machine itself was still active, so trickling drops of different liquids were spilling out onto the tiled floor. All of the cabinets had been opened, and the supplies that had been stored in them decorated the floor in shattered pieces of glass and other materials. 

My eyes darted to the corner of the room. Doctor Marcof was slumped down against the walls and floor, his white coat stained red with the blood that dripped from the side of his mouth. A crimson colored concussion wreaked havoc on the right side of his forehead, and his eyes were closed.

I didn't have to check his pulse to see if he was alive. The Force told me he was merely unconscious.

Worry mingled with disbelief to penetrate my composure. I couldn't believe that in the short time it had taken me to go to the office and return, he had kidnapped my Master. He had obviously been waiting for me to leave, but where had he taken Qui-Gon? What had he done with him? I could feel through the Force that he was alive, but I could also feel that he was in grave danger.

Force, how would I find them now? With our bond blocked at his end, there was no way I could track Qui-Gon, and I had absolutely no idea where Revelc Cainam would take him. The capital city was huge and there were countless places where he could keep my Master, and…kill him in whatever fashion he pleased without me ever coming close to finding him.

Fear gripped my heart. I had told my Master that I wouldn't let anything happen to him, and now he was at the mercy of an insane man who had brought us to this planet for the sole purpose of taking pleasure in causing our deaths. If I lost him now I would never be able to live with it, I would never be able to forgive myself for allowing this to happen.

A pulse of familiarity shot through the Force. I sensed a…presence nearby. The hospital was full of patients and doctors, of course, but it wasn't them I was sensing. No, what I was sensing was dark, angry, and hateful. What I was sensing was a creeping, insidious, danger in the Force. What I was sensing was Revelc Cainam.

My lightsaber was drawn before I was even aware of grabbing it. Gripping it tightly in both hands, I slowly turned in place, almost expecting him to jump out at me from the inky shadows that lay scattered about the room.

Everything was completely still though.

Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes and touched the Force again. I could sense him nearby, but I couldn't place him, nor could I feel Qui-Gon's presence with him. Had he really had enough time to take my Master somewhere and return in the little time I had been absent?

The thick blanket of silence was momentarily fractured by a noise that could have come from behind me, assuming it had come from anywhere at all. Had I really heard something, or was my mind playing tricks on me?

Every muscle in my body tensed, and my heartbeat quickened, pumping adrenaline through my system. I felt the calm peace of my meditation slipping away, and my ability to feel the Force wavered slightly. I was jittery, uneasy, and jumpy. Not a good combination.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps, followed by the loud crunching of glass, told me that someone had entered the room. It was him! My heart seemed to jump into my throat, tightening it and making dread pound in my chest. I had to do something! My intense desire to capture this man and be done with it, as well as the fear and adrenaline that filtered through my body, combined to make me react without thinking.

Rapidly turning around to face the intruder, I released the lightsaber from one of my hands and gestured purposefully ahead of me. At the same time, I gathered the Force and released it in a rippling wave that sped forward to send the person flying back. A loud scream shattered the silence and was abruptly cut short by a groaning thud as the figure slammed into the back wall of the room, sliding to the floor, unconscious.

Fixing my gaze on my enemy, I let out a startled gasp. Then I grimaced and closed my eyes, horrified to see that I had just assaulted a young nurse, probably no older than I was. In my distraction, I had overreacted and probably scared the poor thing half to death. Some Jedi I was – I attacked innocent bystanders, thinking that they were insane revenge seeking madmen out to get my Master and me.

Striding over towards the crumpled figure, I deactivated my lightsaber and knelt. Then, feeling incredibly guilty, I did a quick examination to make sure she was unharmed. Which, fortunately for my ego, she was. "I'm sorry," I whispered, pressing a gentle hand to her forehead, almost glad that I had mistakenly knocked her out so that I wouldn't have to try and explain why I had flung her across the room.

I froze, my fingers still lingering at the girl's head, and felt every muscle in my body tighten. Something was different, something _sounded_ different. Everything was silent, but somehow, it was _too_ silent. It was as if something was _missing_, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was…

Wait, that was it! There was no soft whirring sound in the background. The gentle purr of the power generators had died down into nothingness. I cocked my head, and frowned. The sound had stopped but a few moments earlier, but that meant that any minute now the lights…

As if on cue, the lights buzzed loudly, flickered menacingly, and then died down. Surrendering to the opaque veil of darkness, they left the room completely shrouded in impenetrable obscurity. With the fleeing light, and my shot of rising panic, the Force also receded from my touch, leaving me completely blind and feeling utterly defenseless.

"You Jedi are always so calm, so collected," a guttural voice sneered in the darkness, "I've had the dubious pleasure of seeing quite a few of you pathetic knights in action, and you're all the same. You're all cut off from emotion and trapped in your own prison of regulations. It wasn't until today, when I stole your Master away, that I even knew you were capable of feeling pain. He cried out to you, you know, just before the ghost of agony tore at his face."

Those words, spat out so viciously, clawed at me. I had failed Qui-Gon, had left him helpless to face this man's fury when he was in no condition to even walk. Some apprentice I was. If I wasn't careful, my stupidity would get him killed. I should have stayed with him. I never should have left his side. Now, he was in peril, and I was cowering in the darkness.

"Then, as I watched, fascinated, the _venerable_ scum seemed to whither before my eyes, and I heard his strangled whimper of pain. And you know what I discovered, boy?" he paused now, either for dramatic effect or to chill me, most likely for both.

I couldn't see him, but then again, I didn't have to. I could feel his hatred slamming into me, and it made me tremble. Everything about him, from the coldness of the air around him, to the more malice that dripped from his voice, spoke of his sheer and absolute loathing towards me. I had been confronted by such volatile emotions before, but never in this magnitude, and it was sickening to know all of that anger was directed at me.

Eagerly grasping tentacles of terror crept up my body to wrap themselves tightly around me. When I had been reading his report I had been detached but now, now that I could feel his rage again, and knew its cause, I felt fear bounding in to claim me. This man was literally insane, unpredictable, and worst of all, extremely intelligent. I didn't even want to think about what that meant for Qui-Gon, or for me.

"That I liked it!" he barked out suddenly, his words lashing at me. Even though I hadn't heard him enter, he was somewhere in the room. I tried to use my sense of hearing to locate him, to hone in on his position as he hid in the night, but it was useless. Without the Force, all I could do was blindly guess, and that simply wasn't good enough.

An unbearably bright stream of light shone in my face, burning at my eyes with a ferocity that mocked the gentle warmth that bathed my skin. Shielding my eyes with my hands, I clenched them shut against the stinging invasion of light. However, even though I could block out the light, the claws of pain were not so easy to fight.

Daggers of fire pulsated within the waves of red light. I could feel the light hitting me, but I could also feel something else, something within the light, churning straight through my body. My skin tingled warm, and an inferno was growing inside me, reaching out and spreading within me. 

My insides were burning. It felt like someone had literally lit a fire inside me. Acid shot through my veins like sparking electricity. Throbbing agony consumed every part of my body, everything I felt was red-hot and excruciating. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, all I knew was pain.

A scream built up within me, threatening to spill through my open lips until I clamped the noise down and emitted something close to a high pitched mewl. Strangled as the sound was, I heard Revelc Cainam laughing. It could have been a normal sounding laugh, except that it lacked everything I would normally associate with laughter. There was no mirth in that sound, only a sadistic enjoyment that was born of hate and anger.

It made my skin crawl.

Desperately reaching out to the Force, I tried to release my pain into it, but I couldn't concentrate enough to even touch it. The exploding balls of flame in my head, and the slithering, snatching talons of thudding, vicious anguish obscured my thoughts. My heart was beating two things into my body: fear and pain, and I felt completely and totally helpless to do anything about to save myself, or the man I cared for the most in the entire galaxy.

Dimly, I became aware of the fact that I was on my hands and knees with my face inches away from the floor. Broken shards of glass cut into my palms, but that was like a prick compared to what my mind and body were aflame with. I could hear my coughing gasps, I could hear the thudding of my heart, and then, out of the darkness, I could hear his thick, callous voice.

"I'm actually glad you and your precious Master didn't die in that explosion," he informed me coldly, "because I have waited too long to let my revenge just quickly pass me by. Before I am through, I will enjoy this, Jedi." Again, he spat out the word 'Jedi', like it was a curse.

Half formed thoughts reeled through my head. I couldn't understand him. I simply couldn't understand how he could harbor such dark, deep, loathing and fury within him. I didn't understand how his mind could work that way. I didn't understand how he could have loved this woman so much, but instead of accepting her decision, turn to…this. I didn't understand any of it, and maybe I didn't want to. Or maybe it was impossible to understand the way his mind worked. He was insane, after all.

"This is an interesting device," he spoke almost conversationally, "it looks as harmless as a flashbeam, but it actually causes great amounts of pain in the victim."

Yeah, as if I couldn't feel that for myself.

The world was going dark around me. Not visually – my eyes were still closed – but physically. My body was shutting down. The pain was so unbearable, that it was slowly killing me. My thoughts seemed to slow to a crawling pace, and for a few pulsating moments, the agony was pushed away from me. It was still there, but second by piercing second, it was slowly drifting away. Not because the man had turned the infernal contraption off, but because my body functions were withering away.

No! If lost consciousness that Qui-Gon and I would both surely die – I could feel that in my heart. I had to stay awake. I had to fight this man. I had to…

"You know what's even better?" he questioned, and then answered his own question, "the fact that I can set it on automatic."

The sound of his voice hadn't even faded into silence when I felt the sharp toe of a boot come slamming into my stomach. If I had thought I couldn't possibly have felt anymore pain than I was already feeling, I had been terribly wrong. Pain flared in the spot where his shoe had hit me, and quickly became a sore, pulsing torment that added to my already existing agony. Then, as the air was sent whizzing from my body, I was coughing and sputtering, and trying to refill my lungs.

I had barely managed to swallow a mouthful of oxygen when he kicked me again – in the same spot – and then again and again and again. My stomach flared up in protest, my nerves screaming at me louder than the pain that was still tearing through my entire body, and I couldn't breathe. My lungs were empty, stinging, blazing, and making my whole chest tighten. Every time I tried to suck in some more air, it came out of me in a rush with the merciless onslaught of the lunatic's kicks. 

Like some distant dream, I could hear my grunts and groans. I could feel that I had been knocked from my hands and knees and was lying on my side, on the cold hard floor. I could hear my coughing and gasping, and, more frighteningly, I could _feel_ the man's callous enjoyment of seeing me suffer. But all of this was just in a corner of my awareness. The pain was too distracting for me to truly focus on any of it.

Once more, darkness encroached upon my mind. Only now it was more insistent, and I felt that it was eating my energy to fight it. I didn't have much time. My senses were become blurred, my hearing was distorted and my feelings eased away from me, taking some of the pain with them. I was losing consciousness.

Force, what was wrong me with me? Why wasn't I fighting back? Why wasn't I doing anything? I could beat this man. I had faced dozens of destroyer droids. I had defended myself against troops and blasters. Why was I doing so poorly on this mission? The Tarcalians had captured me so easily, and now this one man was about to take me out single handedly. I couldn't give up…

The Force… It was my only hope. The pain and fear had shattered my connection to it, but it was still there. I had had to reach for it and use it. Gritting my teeth, I ignored the pain, ignored the fact that my lungs felt like they were about to explode, ignored everything but the living blanket that cloaked and imbued all living things. I focused on letting it wash over me, on letting it fill and guide me.

The first thing I felt within the Force was a dark, bitter rage. A cold hatred that sent a shiver down my spine. I forced myself to ignore it though. I felt past Revelc Cainam's emotions, past the way they were clouding the Force, and instead touched the light. The light that was always so brilliant. As soon as I felt that marvelous peace again, my fear melted away. My emotions calmed, and I was able to release some of pain into the Force.

The agony was still there, but now I could think and act again. Now I could 'see' again – even without opening my eyes. I could sense where Revelc Cainam was standing in relation to me. I could sense the movement of his leg as it pummeled into me. I could sense the speed at which it was moving. I could sense everything I needed to gather all my strength and reach out, with a Jedi's reflexes and determination, to grab his moving ankle in an iron fist.

His leg was moving fast, and I almost lost my grip, but I held tight and as soon as my arm had absorbed the impact, I twisted his ankle forward and to the side. 

There was a startled gasp from the darkness that surrounded us, and then I felt the swirl of air and heard the hiss of sound as he lost his balance and came toppling to the ground. Fortunately, I also sensed how he in the process of falling _on_ me, and I quickly released his ankle and forced myself to roll to the side, out of his way and out of the searing beam of light that was shredding my nerves

Sweet bliss!

As soon as the hideous light of the contraption was no longer hitting me, the pain stopped. There was no gradual fading; it just abruptly and completely vanished. Everything suddenly felt normal again, and it was wonderful. It was like a wash of light flooded through my body, chasing away the agony. I felt light and giddy, like I had been liberated from a horrendous dungeon or prison.

I felt almost wonderful enough to ignore the stinging of my stomach. Almost. He had hit me countless times in the same spot, and it _hurt_. My skin felt tight, and the muscles of my stomach seemed to be quivering and pulsing in pain. Gingerly, I touched my fingers to where he had hit me – above and to the left of my bellybutton, and grimaced, releasing a hiss of air, at how sore it was.

Taking a deep breath, I did my best to release the pain into the Force. Then I opened my eyes.

Most of the room was still pitch black, except for this red streak of light that emanated from a point about three feet away from me and six feet up in the air. The device, whatever it was, was probably attached to some sort of probe. I had to destroy it before Revelc Cainam could get his hands on it. 

With a flick of my hand and a touch of the Force, the…thing went whizzing back through the air until it hit a wall and the light went out, leaving us completely in the darkness, which was all right with me. Unless this man had super night vision, it would give me the advantage because neither of us would be able to see, but I would have the Force on my side.

At some point I had dropped my lightsaber – probably when he first pointed that thing at me – and so I extended my arm and brought it flying into my hand. Just then, I sensed Revelc Cainam jump to his feet, noisily kicking aside something he had previously knocked to the floor.

Instantly, I pushed the button that would activate my weapon. Then I watched as a beam of white-blue light shot up from the hilt, only to pulsate and fizz into darkness. What in the world? I had had my lightsaber malfunction before, but never quite like that. What was wrong with it?

"A lightsaber is a most deadly weapon indeed, but not if you know how to stop them," he sounded like he was toying with me, like he was the epitome of confidence, but something had changed. He was nervous. I could feel it. He had been ready for me to come back, but he hadn't counted on me not being rendered completely helpless by his device. Now he wasn't sure whether he could win, he was even a little scared.

It made me very happy to know he was frightened. So far he had been ready for everything we did, but now I had turned the tables and he wasn't so sure that he would succeed in his little quest for revenge. 

I tucked my weapon back into my utility belt. He was probably using some sort of magnetic field to make sure it wouldn't stay activated. 

A fluctuation in the Force warned me seconds before it happened, allowing me to get ready to defend myself. He now knew where I was – he had seen the lightsaber glow – and was going to attack. There was whirl of sound and movement, and I saw a wild face with vengeful eyes emerging through the darkness as he sailed towards me.

We were only standing about three feet apart, so he quickly reached me. His forearms and chest came pounding into my upper body, and I yielded to the force of his momentum and allowed myself to be easily knocked over.

Having expected me to resist, he was moving way to fast to even try and slow down, so the impact sent us both tumbling down to the floor. Just as I wanted. My back hit the tiles painfully hard, and I could feel the jagged edges of broken flasks pressing into my skin, but I ignored both things and used Revelc Cainam's momentum against him.

Waiting until he had fallen nearly on top of me, I crunched my legs up against my stomach and chest and kicked upward with all my strength. As intended, my feet hit him solidly in the abdomen and that, in combination with the speed at which he was falling, sent him sailing a few feet over and past my head, where he landed with a groaning crash.

Pushing against the floor with my hands, I easily rolled to my feet and spun in the darkness. The saboteur was sprawled on the floor, facing upward, and breathing rapid shallow breaths. The wind had been knocked out of him, and he was probably slightly disoriented.

Pressing my advantage, I stayed extremely still so as not to make the slightest noise. That was he wouldn't be able to find me, even though I could sense exactly where he was and what he was doing.

Extending my senses outward, I searched within the Force for something I could use against this man to defeat him without greatly harming or killing him. For some reason I felt myself drawn to the flasks that lay shattered on the floor. Actually, now that I reached further into the Force, I could feel that not all of them were broken. One was intact. 

Even though I didn't know what was in the flask, or why I felt compelled to take it, I called the small glass container to my hand so that I could grab and use it. The Force was swarming around this container, pushing and pulling me towards it. It was as if it was shouting at me, with sensations and mental touches, to use it.

So I did.

Revelc Cainam was just stumbling to his feet when I jumped forward and broke the flask over his head. It was too small to knock him out, but the fractured pieces of glass fell to the floor, letting whatever liquid contained inside flow down the man's face.

No sooner had I dropped what remained of the flask, did I hear Revelc Cainam's startled yell of pain. "Aarrh!" he screamed, in a rather high-pitched voice, "my eyes!" Through the Force I could sense that he had pressed his hands to his eyes and was clawing at them, as if they stung so bitterly that he wanted to pull them out. 

He suddenly extended his arms and stepped forward, as if searching for me in the darkness, but quite abruptly, his knees buckled and he fell to his knees, where he continued to rub and paw at his eyes. For a few moments he persisted that way, until he started to shake and then convulse. The liquid in that container had done its duty, I could feel the saboteur's mind slipping away into the void of unconsciousness.

"Live or die," I jumped when he spoke it a harsh, angry whisper, "I still win. You're too late to save your Master, boy, but if you hurry, you may be able to watch him die."

Then, he fell forward until his face was smashed against the floor, and lost consciousness.

As I stood there staring into the darkness, all I could feel towards this man was pity. There was no fear anymore, no resentment or anger, just pity. He has wasted his life on seeking revenge, and what had it gotten him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He has fed on the darkness within his sole, until anger turned to rage, and hatred to loathing. Now, now that he had gone after Qui-Gon and I, he had nothing left.

With a soft hum, the emergency lights came on.

Blinking to adjust my vision, I looked around and nearly smiled. Everything was as I had sensed through the Force. Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel a little proud. I had never done this well in the darkness, not even in lightsaber duels. Usually I could just sense position and movements, but this time I had been able to 'see' everything around me. I truly was learning and growing, and it felt good to realize that.

A soft groan drew my attention to the young doctor. He had regained consciousness and was pressing a trembling hand to the concussion on the forehead. He whimpered again, and opened his eyes, squinting, and peering dazedly around the room.

I rushed to kneel at his side, "Will you be okay?" I whispered.

He grimaced and rubbed his face. "Y-yes," his voice broke, "I'll be…fine," his eyes were bloodshot, and he seemed to be having trouble focusing. When he reached out to grab my arm, his grip was weak. "Obi-Wan," he rasped, "I-I'm sorry…I tried to fight him, but he-he came out of nowhere! He…has Master Jinn."

I smiled, trying to reassure him, "Yes, I know. It's all right, I'll take care of it."

Doctor Marcof shook his head, "When you find Master Jinn, he's going to be in pretty bad shape. He's very…weak. The disease gets stronger the longer it lasts, and…the second shock of being…disconnected from the drug will be w-worse than the first… You have to find him…soon."

Anxiety stormed through my body. The immediate threat had distracted me from my worry for Qui-Gon, but now that concern came back in full force. If before I had sensed he was in danger, now I sensed that he was close to something ten times worse than that. If I didn't do something – soon – he would die. Not because of the shock, not because of the disease, but because of whatever Revelc Cainam had done before returning here to find me.

The door slid open and a group of paramedics and police officers walked in. 

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. It was so nice of them to come and lend a hand. Why did the cavalry always have to arrive _after_ the excitement ended and there was nothing left to do?

I jumped to my feet. "Take that man into custody," I pointed to the saboteur, "and keep him under heavy guard," then I turned to the doctors, "make sure Doctor Marcof is taken care of, as well as the young nurse."

Everyone nodded, and I waited until I saw two officers step aside and electro-cuff Revelc Cainam before I turned and speeding out of the room. I may have defeated our foe, but the danger lived on. Qui-Gon life was still at risk, and I didn't even have a clue as to where he was.

TBC… (on Monday)


	11. Loyalty

Guess what! After this, all we have left is the Epilogue! Aren't you glad it's FINALLY over??  LoL!  Well, as always, thanks so much for the FB, I'm thrilled that a few of you are reading and enjoying this!  It's always nice when people like your stuff!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Eleven: Loyalty ~

**Obi-Wan:**

As soon as I left Qui-Gon's hospital room, I found a quiet place to meditate. I felt lost, defenseless, and incapable of saving him. At least with the bomb, I had known where to find him. Now…now he could have been well on his way to one of the moons, for all I knew. All I really knew was that he was in life-threatening danger, I could feel that like a cold, creeping sickness washing over me.

My heart was pounding with worry, and my mind was flashing me images of things Qui-Gon and I would never get to do if I couldn't find him in time. I would never get to tease him about his cooking again. I always did that, even though he was about ten million times a better chef than me. I would never get to listen to his exaggerated comments about my appetite. I would never get to do anything with him again.

Regrets also filtered through my thoughts.

I never had apologized to him for what I had said when he asked about going on a vacation together. What if I never got another chance? I would have to live with that, and the knowledge of all the other things we'd never get to do again, if I failed. 

I couldn't fail. 

Even though the very blood pumping through my veins was telling me to rush forward and save him, my mind knew better. I couldn't just go gallivanting off into the city, hoping that I would just happen upon him. I had to know where he was. I had to hope that I could find the answer in the Force. Most importantly, I had to do it _soon_. He didn't have much time left. I could feel that too.

So instead, I found a forced patience and meditated, just as I had seen Qui-Gon do during so many times of trial and worry.

The Tarcalian ship. The words popped into my mind out of nowhere, but I could feel that they were imbued with the touch of the Force. When I had been in Revelc Cainam's office, I had heard those two men talking about the Tarcalian ship that had been found in the abandoned transport station. That's where he was. On the ship.

In the time it took me to open my eyes and get up, I already had doubts. Why would our saboteur take him there? How could I be sure that he was there? What if I went and I didn't find him, and then Qui-Gon was killed because I wasn't there to save him? What if…

Force, there I went again. Doubting my instincts. I was always doubting my instincts. And I couldn't. Not now. Not when I didn't have much time. I would have to go there, and hope that I was right. I had to be right…I didn't want to think about losing Qui-Gon this way. I didn't want to think about him being killed by some crazy man who couldn't move on with his life. I didn't want to think about not being able to at least say goodbye to him. 

I couldn't let Qui-Gon die. Not like this.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was easy enough to find the abandoned transport station – all I had to do was follow the howling sirens of the police shuttles. Unit after unit was being sent to handle the Tarcalians. I could only surmise that this was one of the planets that had outlawed their presence. If they were caught, the Tarcalians would be imprisoned for trespassing on Ceerus soil. 

However, right now, that was no concern of mine. All I cared about was finding and saving my Master.

~~~~~~~~~

The abandoned transport station actually consisted of several small buildings and a very large field where hundreds of old-model transports sat, rusting. Most of them probably couldn't have been made to fly even if saving the whole universe depended on it. They seemed glued to the ground.

In the middle of the maze of decaying ships, was a relatively small, sleek looking Scamper class Speeder. It lived up to its name well – that vessel was probably the fasted, most maneuverable, well-armed ship to ever fly about the stars. Once the Tarcalians took off in that piece of craftsmanship, the police troops would have no living hope of ever catching them. That's why they were putting up such a resistance on the ground – to make sure they captured the Tarcalians now.

They were indeed putting up a resistance.

Hundreds of policeman had formed a perimeter around the Speeder. By using the old vessels as cover, the troops were well hidden, and very difficult to hit with blasterfire. From what I could see, they had formed groups of four, and were stationed every five meters. Every few seconds, one of them would poke themselves up over the ship, and take a shot at the Tarcalians. They had the Tarcalians surrounded, and vastly outnumbered. 

From what I could see, three of the Tarcalians had already been shot down, and the three remaining ones didn't have good chances of survival. See, although they were hidden inside one of the old ships that had been abandoned close to their own Speeder, they had to abandon that cover to make it to their Scamper. During that time, they'd be wide open to the blasterfire. 

The area was alive with blasterfire. There was a constant stream of shots being exchanged back and forth between the Tarcalians, and the troops. Bullet-sized balls of light and energy were whizzing back and forth, making everything come alive with the fury of color and sound. There wasn't a single instant of silence, nor a single moment when shots weren't being fired.

The Tarcalians were making a fighting retreat. They were firing as they fell back, obviously hoping to jump into their vessel and fly out of there before they were all killed. How the three of them had managed this long was a mystery to me, and I wasn't giving them high odds on surviving long enough to get in their ship.

The police also realized what they were doing, and began to tighten their circle of men and close in on them. However, the Tarcalians were getting close to their vessel, and were still firing off enough rounds to keep the men from storming them.

Assuming the Tarcalians weren't shot down, the police wouldn't be able to stop them from taking off. I would have to take action myself.

Grimly, I ignited my lightsaber and ran out from behind the ship I had been using as cover.

"Hey!" a woman yelled at me loudly, "Kid! Get back here! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

No, I thought, I have absolutely no intention of getting myself killed. In fact, I had very different plans. I planned to not only stay alive, but keep my Master alive too. 

Running out into the middle of a field of blasterfire probably didn't seem like the best thing to do, but I had my lightsaber, and the Force, and I felt confident that I could reach the vessel in time to hitch a ride. 

The loud hissing of blaster shots sped and zoomed by me from every direction, and my lightsaber was a blur of light as I swerved and sliced it a graceful dance around me. Deflecting countless shots as I sprinted forward, I ate the distance between me and the Speeder. 

To both sides, it probably looked like I was charging the Tarcalians. That fact didn't make the troops fire any less, but it certainly made the Tarcalians a little more eager to get on their ship. When I had started running, all three of them had still be standing outside it, but one had already managed slipped in through the open doors, and the second one was rapidly making his way towards doing the same thing. Only one of them was standing his ground, doubtlessly to prevent the troops from charging them.

Quickening my speed, I leapt forward into the air to avoid three blaster shots that were all flying at me from three different directions. Then I used the Force to somersault in mid flight and felt a dusting of cold air hit my skin as a stream of shots passed within millimeters of my shoulder. As soon as I landed, I cut my lightsaber across in front of me, and deflected yet another shot. Without the Force I would have been dead three steps into the firing zone, but with it I could sense the danger with enough anticipation to defeat it.

I was about ten feet away when the remaining Tarcalian began to retreat towards his vessel's entrance. He was about a meter in front of it, and in a few seconds he would be close enough to turn and scamper into safety. Then he would close the door and cut off my only means of reaching my Master. 

Speeding up, I pushed against the ground with my feet and, with a touch of the Force to assist me, went sailing in the air towards the open hatch of the ship. Holding my weapon in just one hand, I extended my other arm in front of me, so that I could grab onto the ship as soon as I was close enough.

The Tarcalian, seeing what I was doing, quickly jumped up into the ship and slammed his hand down hard on controls for the door, which automatically responded by beginning to slide shut at an alarmingly rapid rate.

I hit the side of the ship hard, my stomach and chest ramming into pure unyielding metal. The wind was knocked out of me, and I was gasping for breath, but with my one free hand I managed to grab onto the outer rim of the door and slither my way through the shrinking opening just as the doors slid shut behind me.

Dropping my lightsaber, I fell to my knees. My vision was dark and spotted red and my head pounded out its dizziness. I was breathing hard, my stomach was stiff and throbbing, and my heart was racing, but I had made it.

For a few moments I could hear the loud, echoing ricochet of blaster shots harmlessly bouncing off the hull of the ship, but those sounds were washed away by the humming purr of the vessel's engines. Scamper class Speeders were so well designed, that seconds later, when the vessel hurtled up into the sky, it didn't so much as tremble. 

Clicking my weapon onto my utility belt, I forced myself to climb to my feet. I could have gladly sat their all day, recovering the energy that had been sucked out of me, but I had a job to do. A job that wouldn't wait.

I looked around.

I was alone and I was in a storage room of some sort. There was a door on either side of me. One no doubt led to the bridge, and the other to the sleeping quarters. I could hear the Tarcalians voices reverberating from my right, and to my left I felt nothing but stillness.

I turned to my left.

The Tarcalians didn't realize I had made it onto their ship, and I preferred to keep it that way. Besides, wouldn't they have noticed Qui-Gon if he was on the bridge? I was betting that Revelc Cainam had put him somewhere less out in the open, somewhere that he wouldn't be obvious.

The doors were motion triggered and opened for me as I approached them. Stepping through them, I found myself in a small hallway. On either wall of the passageway, were three doors, which no doubt led to the sleeping chambers, and at the end of the hallway was a small dome shaped orifice with five circular hatches. Escape pods. 

Qui-Gon was probably in one of the rooms. If he was here at all, a little voice inside me quipped. I ignored it. He had to be here. The Force had drawn me here, and if he wasn't here…well, I didn't want to think about the 'if he wasn't here' option.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was beginning to feel slightly uneasy when I exited the fifth room. I hadn't found any trace of Qui-Gon, nor could I sense his Force-signature anywhere. There had been several storage crates in the storage room, what if Revelc Cainam had stuffed Qui-Gon in one of those? No, I shook my head, that was impossible. If he had, my Master surely would have suffocated by now, and I knew he wasn't dead. That I would have felt through the Force and through the bond, no matter how strong Qui-Gon's shields were.

If I hadn't been so distracted by my worry for my Master, or if I had happened to remember more than passingly that our saboteur had left the Tarcalians what he called an 'extra surprise' for their work, maybe I would have sensed that the danger I felt was not only directed at my Master, but at everyone in this vessel. However, as it was, that didn't occur to me until later, and I was completely surprised by the deafening boom of shattering sound from within the room I had just left.

Before I could even think about moving, I heard the room's doors slide open behind me, and felt the sweltering wave of heat and power that sent me reeling into the bulkhead. It felt as if I had been hit with a wave of wind as hot as fire, and as solid as a wall. Smoke billowed around me, and orange-red flames danced in my peripheral vision, but I was too dazed by the impact to even realize what had happened. Instead, I felt myself slipping away from reality as the blanket of unconscious nothingness descended over me.

~~~~~~~~~

Tarcalian ship… Save Qui-Gon… Fire and heat… Smoke…

Vague, half-thoughts formed in my head as I slowly drifted back into consciousness. At first it was like being suspected halfway between a dream and reality, but then sensations began leaking through to me.

The first thing I felt was pain. My stomach was of course still sore from being kicked so many times, but the stinging, burning, pounding against my head told me I had a concussion. My lungs tingled slightly. I was having trouble breathing; the air was thick and warm against my skin. Every time I sucked a mouthful of air in, I had to resist the urge to gag on it and cough it back up. 

Groaning, I opened my eyes and pressed my hand against my head, as if seeking to relieve the pressure and pain that were built up there. 

Everything was obscured by thick clouds of smoke. Squinting, I pawed at the smoke with my hands and managed to clear some of it away so that I could see a few feet in either direction. 

Suddenly, I couldn't see at all.

The room in front of me was nothing but a pit of leaping flames and bulging heat. A red-hot fire had completely consumed everything within it, and slithering tentacles of the inferno were bounding through the doorway and into the hallway where I lay. Patches of fire had already ignited in the hallway, and I knew it wouldn't be too long before this section of the ship was completely uninhabitable.

Standing up, I felt a wave of dizziness attack me. My vision swam and I felt like I was wavering on my feet, about to fall. Forcing several deep breaths of the smoke filled air, I concentrated on releasing the pain of my concussion. Slowly, the pounding in my head lessened and the disorientation fled with it.

What had happened?

I had been leaving the room when I had heard this terrible sound and… An explosion! There had been a bomb somewhere in that room. Revelc Cainam had told the Tarcalian that his payment would be on the ship, along with another surprise. This was it. The bomb hadn't been powerful enough to destroy the vessel, but it most certainly had been powerful enough to be in inoperable. 

Eeeergghhh!

It was as if my brain started processing sound again all at once, overwhelming my ears with the horrible screeching of an alarm that was loud enough to wake the dead and make them wish they were dead again.

The shrieking toll sounded four more times in rapid succession and then fell silent just long enough for an even louder, grating, computerized voice to announce; "The ship will self-destruct in five minutes exactly."

A chill grabbed my heart it its icy clutches of despair. This was the danger I had sensed that Qui-Gon was in. Tarcalians always destroyed their ship when they were forced to abandon it. Revelc Cainam knew that. That was why he had left my Master here. He knew that the explosion would 'cause enough damage to make the Tarcalians leave their vessel, and that my Master would be killed when the engines ignited and caused a massive explosion that would paint the sky with the remaining smithereens of the ship

I was exhausted, but suddenly reserves of energy I didn't even know existed within the confines of my body pumped through my veins. Qui-Gon and I didn't have much time, and that gave me motivation enough to get going even though sleep was a very appealing thing indeed.

Plowing through the smoke, I charged into the one room I hadn't searched yet. 

Thankfully, there was much less smoke in this room than out in the hallway. Right now it was only floating around vaguely near the ceiling, and although the air was warm and humid, I no longer had to fight for every breath. The fire, as of yet, hadn't reached this room, although I could feel the heat emanating off the walls. I also could hear the crackling of the flames from outside, barely audible in the silent gaps between the blaring of the alarm, and I knew I didn't have much time before this whole place when up in flames. Of course, then again, I didn't have much time before this entire vessel was floating debris in the planet's atmosphere.

The room was all but barren. There was an extremely large bed pushed up against the center of the far wall, and a proportionately big dresser perched next to it. Other than that, there were absolutely no pieces of future or personal processions in here – even the top of the dresser was clear. It looked exactly like all the other rooms I had searched.

Maybe Qui-Gon _was_ on the bridge after all.

I turned to leave, but paused a few feet in front of the doorway. This room _looked_ the same, but something _felt_ different. A soft flickering in the Force was pulsing against my mind. It was a familiar sensation, but very weak. Not weak enough, though, to not send relief shooting through my mind. It was Qui-Gon's Force-signature.

Exulting, I rushed to stand in the center of the room and looked around. I had found him! The question was…where was he? There was no closet in the room where he could be hidden, no space under the bed, and no sign of him anywhere.

I frowned. What had Revelc Cainam done _now_? I could feel that he was here! Where in the Force could he possibly have been hidden?

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

The piercing cry sounded distant in my ears, but the warning that followed it did not. "The ship will self-destruct in four minutes and two seconds."

_When no apparent answer is evident, consider options you normally never would._ Even though Qui-Gon wasn't here with me – at least nowhere that I could _see_ – his lessons never abandoned me. He was here; there was just something I wasn't seeing.

Thoughtless instinct drew my gaze upward and seconds later I was gagging and choking on the air that was thrown from my mouth in a coughing gasp. My throat grew tight, and my stomach churned. I felt like throwing up; it was disgusting.

There, tied up and suspended in a box of glass, was my Master.

He appeared to be floating in the center of the large, rectangular container. His feet, bound together, were about a foot from the ceiling, his arms, hanging down past his head and wavering graying hair, were about a meter above me. 

The revolting thing wasn't that he was just hanging there like some ghastly decoration, but the fact that even though his eyes were closed, even though he was unconscious, convulsions were still ripping through his body. The heaving of his chest, followed by the jerking movement that opened his mouth, told me he was coughing. He was shaking violently, and every few moments his arms would flail out and soundlessly smack into the glass that encased him. Streaks of blood decorated the inside of the prison. 

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self-destruct in three and a half minutes."

That jolted me. Before I even knew what I was doing, I stepped to the side of the room and called upon the Force to help me. Using its gentle power, I encased the box in waves of mental energy and carefully brought it down from the ceiling, where it had somehow been rigged to float. Setting down with a soft thud, it landed a few feet away from me.

I pressed my hands against the casing, running them over its smooth surface and realized that this was not glass. It was Veraxian mecosa – the only completely see-through metal to ever be manufactured. It also happened to be one of the strongest metals in existence, so strong that in the time remaining, my lightsaber most likely wouldn't do much of anything.

Stubborn determination flooded my system. I had _not_ come this far to find my Master, and still not be able to save him. No way. I was getting him out of here alive no matter what it took, no matter what I had to do. He was not going to die here, by some crazy man's hand. I wouldn't allow him to.

Concentrating, I sent a pulsating electric shock to my Master through my end of the bond. All my will was gathered behind that one action because no mental shields, no matter how strong, were going to stop me. Then, in the strongest Force-command I had ever mustered, I yelled, You will wake up now.

Qui-Gon started and gasped, his head jerking slightly from where it floated about six inches from the bottom of the container. At that same instant, his shields came crashing down and I was flooded with the agony that was thrumming through his body, as well as his disorientation and utter confusion.

"Obi-Wan," I saw him mouth, but the sound didn't penetrate the mecosa.

Drawing my lightsaber, I activated it. Then, holding it so that the beam pointed directly at the mecosa, I decided to cut him free. No stupid type of metal was going to keep me from saving him, not if I had any breath left to argue about it.

Don't worry, I sent him a pulse of reassurance, I'm going to get you out of there.

I felt a surge of power and movement within the Force and watched as Qui-Gon used it to flip himself over in the container, and land on his feet. He remained standing for about two seconds before falling to his knees and leaning back against the mecosa behind him.

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in two minutes and fifty seconds."

Obi…wa…w-what is going on? he asked, sounding so incredibly weak that it brought a sheen of tears to my eyes.

I gritted my teeth and pushed my lightsaber beam further into the mecosa, which wasn't giving way in the slightest. The beam had yet to even begin to penetrate the metal, but I refused to give up. I was scared – terrified was probably a better word, actually – and worried beyond belief, but I was also determined. Determined to get us the hell away from this ship before it blew.

He put you in this box made of mecosa, I told him, I'm going to cut you out. I bit my tongue, hoping he wouldn't sense that I was holding something back. Honesty was valued above all things in our relationship, and to Qui-Gon, a lie of omission was still manipulation of the truth. I never lied to Qui-Gon. The few times I had had seen me more severely punished than my friends believed. Lying – Qui-Gon simply would not tolerate it. This time, however, I had to. As soon as he found out how desperate our situation really was, he would order me to leave him and save myself.

That was something that I was not about to do.

Qui-Gon, still pale and trembling fiercely, gave me a look and raised his eyebrow at me. His gaze was strong, penetrating, and severe. When he spoke, his voice was firm and reprimanding. Obi-Wan, Force, my name alone was a chastisement, tell me.

I looked down at the blue beam of my weapon, which was working furiously against the mecosa and getting little accomplished. There was no way I could refuse an order given in _that_ tone of voice, so I gulped down a deep breath of air, and speed-talked him through everything I knew about our current situation.

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in two minutes and twenty seconds."

As I predicted, a millisecond hadn't even passed before he was ordering me to leave. Obi-Wan! his voice was joltingly harsh, Don't be a fool! You have to go now!

I cringed. His desperate urgency made him sound almost angry.

The thing about Qui-Gon was that he could look strong and intimidating, or he could easily blend in with a crowd. Usually, around me, he revealed who he truly was – a calm, gentle, caring man. He didn't try to seem daunting, even though he was still about a foot taller than me and twice as strong. Now, however, despite the fact that he was huddled against the mecosa, with his knees pulled up against his chest, he made himself seem powerful, and fierce. How he was combating the pain of the disease and the shock, I didn't know, but right now he was radiating strength.

My heart skipped a beat and I felt very nervous at disobeying him suddenly. I would not, however, allow myself to be intimidated so, keeping my eyes fixed on the hilt of my weapon, I did my best to ignore him.

Unfortunately, Qui-Gon did his best to convince me to abandon him.

You _know_ that mecosa is very resilient, you won't be able to cut through it in time, especially since I don't have my lightsaber, every word was firm and emphasized.

Want to bet? I snapped a little more defiantly than I had intended, in a tone of voice that Qui-Gon never would have allowed under normal circumstances.

Padawan! it was a controlled yell in my head, and I jumped, my heartbeat pumping faster than it already was, Don't sacrifice yourself for me! If you don't leave, we'll _both_ die! Your life isn't worth giving up for me!

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in two minutes exactly."

I flinched at the sheer anxiety I heard in his voice and sensed through our bond. He was truly scared for me. It frightened him to think I might die with him. He wanted me to go so badly that it was a tangible ache in his heart.

You know I won't leave you, this time it was a soft whisper I spoke in because it was humbling to know he cared for me enough to be this scared. Besides, I couldn't imagine being harsh with him when all he was worried about was my own safety.

Then Qui-Gon did something I never would have guessed he would do. He tried to use the Force to make me do something I really didn't want to. He had, of course, Force-suggested me to sleep, and stuff like that, but he had never even attempted to do something like this. Obi-Wan, you will leave me and use an escape pod to save yourself.

I had never had the full force of my Master's will pitted against me with the Force to back it up. It caught me by such surprise that I found myself moving to obey even before I figured out what he had done. It felt like everything in my body was screaming at me to do what he said, and I had to grit my teeth and use all my own resolve to combat his. I literally had to force myself to freeze. 

No! I wasn't going to let him do this to me. I could and would save him!

By body had gone tense in my struggle, and I was shaking when I finished fighting off his Force-suggestion. He had managed to make me move my lightsaber so that only the very tip of it was still working to melt the mecosa, and I quickly shoved it back to where it had been before.

Glaring up at Qui-Gon, I couldn't help but feel a little angry. Don't ever try and do that again! I hissed, You can punish me for disobeying you when we return to the Temple, but my place is at your side, and I will _not_ leave you! 

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in one minute forty seconds."

Qui-Gon sagged back against the metal, and released a ragged breath. Through our bond I felt his intense grief and the feeling of bitter defeat, as well as a rising surge of despair that I would die here with him. Please, Obi-Wan, he murmured, sounding exhausted as he pleaded with me, Please go. Don't die here with me. You have so much left to do in your life. You could do so much good in the universe, don't throw it all away now.

The words were spoken with such bitter sincerity and love, that the tears that had been pooling in my eyes now trickled down my face. It was like a knife in the heart to feel how frantic he was to get me to go. His sorrow for me flooded our bond with such force that it made my own heart clench and ache with his emotions.

Qui-Gon, I whispered as tenderly as I knew how, You were willing to die for me when you used your energy to initiate a healing trance. Then you refused to leave me when the Tarcalians captured us, even though there was every chance that they would kill us both. How could I do any less for you?

A trickle of gratitude reached me through the maelstrom of other emotions, and he smiled a little sadly at me. I couldn't ask for a better apprentice or friend than you, he sighed regretfully.

I felt myself blush deeply at that, and I smiled as well.

Don't worry, Qui-Gon, we'll make it, and I spoke it with a resolve that I didn't know where I was getting from. There was so little time left, and yet I didn't let myself consider the possibility that we wouldn't make it. We had to.

Such determination, he lamented weakly, I almost believe you.

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in one minute ten seconds."

Lightsabers had different settings. There were training settings that would cause little to no damage, and then there were settings that would kill. The highest lightsaber setting was never used because it would make the weapon short out and become inoperable, but something inside me was telling me to risk it.

You should believe me, I sent him waves of hope as I pushed the lightsaber setting up to the highest one.

You'll short it out! he warned, and I could feel his disbelief at the recklessness that was driving me to risk my life so insanely.

No it won't, I won't let it, I filled the words with all the will I had inside me.

A wave of pain cut through our bond so abruptly that I wasn't able to block it. Instead I had to close my eyes and work to release it into the Force. When I opened them again and gazed down at where my lightsaber was cutting into the mecosa, I felt my heart leap in ecstatic joy. 

Maybe it was the sheer force of my determination, or some miraculous gift from the Force, but the beam had cut through! Now that I had sizzled through in one area, it was a simple thing indeed to swerve my blade about and cut a hole that was big enough for my Master to crawl through.

Deactivating the 'saber, I grinned at Qui-Gon, who looked about as surprised as I had ever seen him look. So surprised that I felt his shock slamming into me. So surprised that he was rendered speechless, and motionless.

"Qui-Gon," I spoke aloud now that he could hear me, "I didn't cut through that thing so that you could just sit there while we're blown to bits." Under normal circumstances I would have gloated and jibed about actually managing to render him speechless – which I had never before done – but we really didn't have the time now.

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in forty seconds."

My Master blushed a little sheepishly and hurried to crawl through the provided space. Then, pausing, he reached through our bond and drew on some of my own energy to revitalize himself and fight off the pain he was in. Seconds later, he had sprung to his feet and pulled me up with him.

Together, we turned and sprinted from the room. 

In my distraction, I had somehow managed to ignore the fact that the fire had spread substantially and that the air was practically a cloud of smoke. I had also somehow managed to breathe. Now, however, Qui-Gon and I were coughing violently and fighting the sweltering heat to make it down the hallway down the orifice where the escape pods were.

We had charged about halfway down the hallway when I felt a wave of blinding agony claw its way through my Master's head and down his body. With a strangled shout, Qui-Gon tripped on a burning piece of the bulkhead, and fell down hard. Then he tried to grab hold of the wall and pull himself out, but hissed loudly and immediately pulled his hand, now red and slightly swollen, back. I knew why. The ship was burning up and the fire had made the metal hot. Very hot.

Desperately, I grabbed hold of Qui-Gon's hands and pulled with all my strength to get him back on his feet. The pain that tore through him was excruciating, and despite all his will and power with the Force, he couldn't fight or release it enough to do more than stumble along with me.

Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh! Eeeergghhh!

"The ship will self destruct in twenty-five seconds."

My Master shot a disoriented glance my way but before he could tell me to leave him, I pulled his arm around my shoulders, and then stretched my right arm around his. Doing my best to support most of his weight, I called upon the Force for strength, and nearly dragged him the rest of the way into the orifice where I saw that three of the five escape pods had already been launched by the Tarcalians. The remaining two had automatically been opened by the self destruct system, and I quickly pushed Qui-Gon through the opening, and then crawled after him myself.

Hitting the panel just next to the hatch, I waited until the entrance had slid shut and then keyed in the default launch sequence all escape pods were manufactured with. Silently thanking the Force that all of the pod's systems had been initiated by the self destruct, I held on tightly to the railings on either side of the small pod that barely had enough room for the both of us, and braced myself as we were sent rocketing away from the Scamper class Speeder.

Through the small window in the pod, I watched as we flew further and further from the vessel. Then, no later than five seconds after I could see the whole ship in the tiny window, there was a horribly bright flash of light as exploding balls of fire enveloped the ship in a terrible fury of destructive power. 

The light stung at my eyes and I clenched them shut. Holding my breath and waiting for the shock wave to reach us, I desperately hoped that we were far enough away to not be blown to particles of dust along with the ship. 

Through our bond, I could feel Qui-Gon reaching past his pain to send me comfort and reassurance through our bond, and I latched onto those emotions gratefully and sent them back to him.

When the shock wave of energy hit us, it was like a wall had been sent slamming against the pathetic little pod. We went hurtling back so fast and so abruptly, that both Qui-Gon and I were sent crashing against the back section of the pod. The severity of the impact had us both groaning and gasping for breath, but once the flash of sudden pain settled down, I laughed, realizing that although we were spinning out of control, we hadn't been destroyed.

We would make it! Once the shock wave dissipated, we would slow to normal velocity and be all right! All of the anxiety, tension, and panic that had built up within me since realizing my Master had been kidnapped came rushing out of me and I felt light enough to simply jump into the air and go soaring above the world. 

I sent Qui-Gon my exuberant joy through our bond, and he sent me back his gratitude for not leaving him, as well as his own relief and happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~

It took about ten minutes for the pod to slow down from getting hit by the shock wave, and as soon as we had stopped tumbling about, I let go of my handholds and turned to look at Qui-Gon.

My Master, who had managed to hold himself still by using the Force while still working to release his pain and not lose consciousness, was curled up on the floor of the pod, with his eyes closed. His breathing was slow, if a little shallow, and he was obviously trying to meditate.

I scooted forward and sat cross-legged so that I could pull Qui-Gon's head and shoulders up into my lap. Gently stroking my Master's hair, I reached through our bond and started sending him all the Force-energy I could spare so that he could more easily let the pain flow through him.

Clutching his hand tightly in my own, I smiled when he groaned and opened his eyes.

For a few moments I could see the pain in them, but then he reached past it and fixed shockingly cold eyes on me. "You should have listened to me – your actions could have brought about _both_ our deaths," he reprimanded me severely.

My heart began to thud against my chest again. A mix of nervousness, fear, and shock filled me. Whenever I had done something wrong, I never could keep myself from feeling a little apprehensive and scared as I listened to Qui-Gon lecture and then hand out punishment. Even though I knew that he still cared for me, I hated to know that I had disappointed or frustrated him. Now, however, I felt that same uneasiness, but also a swelling of surprise.

Meeting his gaze squarely, I spoke with a confidence that the look in his eyes didn't allow me to have, and said, "I will accept any punishment you see fit to give me, but I do not see how you can fault me. I saved your life."

I swallowed hard and waited for him to answer. Could he really discipline me for doing what he himself had done for me on this very mission? Could he really be disappointed that I had refused to leave his side, even though I might have died? Could he really fault my loyalty to him?

"What if you hadn't freed me in time – you would have lost your life in a foolish attempt to be noble," he returned sharply. 

I shook my head helpless, fighting back the urge to feel hurt by his rebukes. No matter what Qui-Gon said, I had done the right thing. If our positions were reversed, he would have done the same for me. "I could not leave you behind," I defied softly.

For a few moments we continued to stare at each other, and I felt myself growing more nervous and uncomfortable. Then, however, I felt a twitch of mirth through our bond, and watched as his stern eyes softened and began to twinkle with amused joy. 

I let my mouth dropped open and realized with something close to exasperated relief, that my insufferable Master had been _joking_. Not only that, but he had gotten me good. I had really believed that he was annoyed with me.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and shook my head. How in the Force could he have done that to me? I wanted to be angry at him for fooling me so, but when I opened my eyes and saw the grin that had lit up his face, I found I couldn't be. Instead, I smiled as well and nodded, grudgingly admitting that he had had me completely tricked.

Our smiles gradually grew into a loud, rich laughter that was as much an expression of sheer relief to be alive, as it was of humor. Our guffaws must have wrung mirthfully in the air for at least a couple of minutes before we both quieted down and returned to smiling at each other.

"After five years, one would think you'd know my sense of humor by now," Qui-Gon playfully teased, sounding incredibly pleased.

I grinned, "Perhaps if I had a Master who wasn't so gleefully rebellious and difficult to figure out, I would."

My Master closed his eyes and relaxed wearily back into my lap, squeezing my hand. "Just don't think that you can disobey me whenever you want," he warned, quite seriously this time, "You're still my Padawan, and you have much to learn."

I nodded, "Yes, Master."

"But," Qui-Gon added, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal his intense blue eyes, "Your loyalty humbles me. Thank you, my Padawan, thank you for not leaving my side. Thank you for always standing with me."

A thick lump formed in my throat and I felt my cheeks burning with my pleased embarrassment. Qui-Gon held so much of my respect, admiration, and love, that any time he complimented me or showed me how much he cared, it made me feel indescribably happy.

I gently caressed my Master's cheek, "I will always stand with you, my friend," I leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, then I wrapped my arms around him and gathered him close, "for my place is at your side"

TBC… (on Thursday)


	12. Epilogue

Okay, before you read the last part of this fic, please give me a moment of your time. (Man, that sounds really formal, doesn't it? Oh well, "Sit down and listen up!" would probably be a bit rude, wouldn't it?) Recently, I've been planning out my last two SW fics, "Hope" and "Never Let Go"/"The Enemy Within" (same fic, can't decide what name to use) 'cause I've been wanting to get back to writing my original stories. I originally started writing JA fanfiction 'cause I didn't like the relationship between Qui and Obi was portrayed in the movie, or in the books. I also wanted to explore their relationship 'cause in my own original stories I have two characters who have a very similar relationship to the one I envisioned Qui and Obi having. Now that I've written quite a few fics, I think I've decided how I want my characters' relationship to start and develop. So, I came up with these last two stories that I'd write before "retiring", as it were, from the SW fandom, and from fanfiction altogether. 

*sigh*

Things haven't gone exactly as I planned. See, ever since LOTR came out last year, I've been fighting the urge to write fanfiction. I didn't want to get drawn into another fandom and push off my original stories for another year, or more, depending on how into it I got. So, even though all these ideas about how I could intertwine this story about Aragorn and Frodo into the movie without making it AU were popping up in my head, I refused to write 'em down. For a year, that worked. Then, TTT came out. Suddenly, every four seconds I was thinking of new story ideas for Aragorn and Legolas and I caved. Just a couple weeks ago, I wrote my first LOTR fic. And then I wrote another. Right now I'm writing my third. Not only that, I've planned out a little series. Right now you're all probably wondering what my point is, right? Don't worry, I'm getting to it. The point is that I've kinda gotten sidetracked from the story "Hope". I was in the middle of writing it when I got hit hard with the LOTR bug. Instead of finishing it over Christmas break, I wrote LOTR fanfics. As it stands right now, I'm not sure I'll ever finish it. I really want to, but I don't know whether or not it'll happen. Likewise, I don't know if I'll ever write the one I planned to work on after that. So, I just wanted to tell everyone who reads my stuff that even though I REALLY REALLY want to finish my story "Hope", My Place is at Your Side might end up being my last fic (which really sucks 'cause I don't think it's one of my better stories).

Let's just hope that after I finish this little LOTR series, the plot bunnies take a break for just long enough for me to finish up "Hope"!

Anyway, sorry to take up your time, I hope you like the last part of this fic. It basically just ties up a whole bunch of little things from earlier in the story.

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Twelve: Epilogue ~

**Obi-Wan:**

I stood staring out my bedroom window, down at the endless rows of Coruscant's skyscrapers and transports. It was good to be home – I had missed the city, and most of all, the Temple. While I loved nature for its obvious beauty, this planet, the biggest city in the entire galaxy, held a different splendor – that of being the place I had grown up in. It was always wonderful to come back here after a trying mission, and this 'mission' had certainly been that.

We had returned yesterday morning, after spending a week on Ceerus tying up all the odds and ends. After having our escape pod picked up by the orbital patrol, we had been taken directly back to the hospital, where Doctor Marcof was waiting for Qui-Gon. The young man, having already had his injuries tended to, had insisted on beginning my Master's treatment for the _third_ time as soon as we arrived. Fortunately, that third time had ended up being the last, as, miraculously, Qui-Gon had not been interrupted again. I also had gotten to do what had I had wanted to do since finding out about this treatment – I had gotten to stay with him while it had been administered. During that six hour period I had done everything from tell my Master stories, to silently sit and hold his hand. It felt good to know that I was as much a comfort to him as he was to me when I as scared or not feeling well.

As soon as Qui-Gon had recuperated from the treatment, we had spoken with the Directors regarding what was to be done with Revelc Cainam. After conferring for quite some time, we had all agreed that he should spend the rest of his life in a high security mental facility where he could be helped overcome his problem. Although I thought it was highly unlikely that he would ever rise above his hate, I was still hopeful that one day he would change and perhaps be able to live the rest of his days happily. It saddened me to think that he might resist treatment and hold this bitter loathing and rage inside him forever.

The Directors had tried to convince us to stay on their planet for another couple of weeks, to enjoy their hospitality and perhaps take a vacation, but both Qui-Gon and I politely declined. We had had quite enough of Ceerus for a long time to come. All we had wanted was to return to the Temple, and now that we were here, it was wonderful to simply relax and bask in the knowledge that we were still _alive_.

Turning to glance at the timepiece on my nightstand, I saw that it was already a few minutes past eight. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I hastened to make my way into Qui-Gon's room. Doctor Marcof had instructed him to take some follow-up medication three times a day: once at eight in the morning, once before lunch, and once before dinner. This was to prevent the disease from springing back again. Unfortunately, it also caused extreme disorientation and intense pain, and I had fallen into the habit of always being there when my Master took it, to help him as I had done on Ceerus.

Qui-Gon was already lying down on his bed, calmly releasing the pain into the Force, when I entered and sat down next to him. Using our bond, I did my best to alleviate as much of his pain as I could. Even though I had seen him endure much worse on Ceerus, it still bothered me to see him like this. It wasn't that he looked terrible, because he didn't. He was very pale, covered in a thin layer of sweat, and shaking. However, that was nothing compared to when he had been in convulsions, coughing up blood. It still hurt to watch him go through this though, because despite his serenity, I could see how weak he was after taking these pills, and it made my heart ache for him.

Reaching out to where his hands were resting on his chest, I took one of them and clasped it tightly. "I'm sorry that I'm late," I whispered, "How are you doing?"

He smiled but didn't open his eyes, "I'll be all right," he whispered in a steady but quiet voice, "Thank you for coming." It was all he said, it was all he ever said, but I knew how much my presence meant to him. I could feel it in the way he squeezed my hand, see it in the tenderness of his gaze, and hear it in the gentleness of his voice. It was heartwarming.

"My pleasure, Master." He _always_ thanked me for my presence – even though I told him he didn't have to – and I always assured him that I was happy to give back what he had always given me.

It usually took about ten minutes for the pain to wear off, and generally we spent the time sitting quietly together. Sometimes, when the effects of the drug were worse than normal, I would babble on about random things to help distract him. My Master rarely, if ever, spoke during these times. 

"Elaisa," Qui-Gon startled me, almost speaking so softly that I couldn't hear him.

"Hmm?" I murmured, confused because I had no idea who or what 'Elaisa' was.

He smiled and squeezed my hand, "Elaisa is a world near the outer rim. Tahl and I visited it many years ago, when we were young knights," his manner was almost wistful, and I knew he was remembering his beloved friend with fond regret, "and we both found it very beautiful. We spent the entire time hiking through the forest and talking."

My Master wasn't given to subtle hinting as a way of approaching a topic, but I knew that this was his way of asking me to go there with him. His gentle request brought back thoughts and regrets that had recently beset my conscience. Once again, I found myself thinking back to the first time he had asked me to go on a vacation with him. At the time I had coldly dismissed the idea because of some forgettable disagreement that we had recently had. He had tried to persuade me, saying that we never spent time together as only friends instead of teacher and student, and I had responded by snapping that that was fine with me.

There were many things I had said to Qui-Gon over the last five years that I regretted, but none so deeply as this. The reason it bothered me so much, the reason it had come to mind so frequently, especially when I thought I might lose Qui-Gon, was because it simply wasn't true. It wasn't anywhere near being the truth. The truth was that the closer friends we became, the more pleased I was with our relationship. Before, I had known that I could always count on Qui-Gon because it was his duty to protect me, but now I knew I could always count on him because he was my friend and he cared for and even loved me. Of course I wanted to spend time with him that didn't involve missions or Temple lessons; of course I wanted to get close to him. At the time, I had just wanted to hurt him, and I had.

I had wanted to take the words back almost as soon as I had said them, but something had stopped me. Possibly pride. I just couldn't bring myself to say I was sorry – didn't know _how_ to apologize for that – and so I had tried to forget about it. The next few days had seen us being rather cautious around each other, but after that we had eased back into our normal relationship. Even still, I couldn't forget what I had said, and after nearly having Qui-Gon die without setting everything straight, I felt I needed to apologize.

Nervousness made my heart flutter. What could I say to him?

A wordless pulse of caring and reassurance touched our bond, telling me that he had sensed my emotions. Something welled up deep within my throat, making my breath catch. Again, he was in pain, and again he was so concerned with my well being. I had to tell him I was sorry, I couldn't have him thinking that what I had said was true when he always treated me with such tenderness.

"Qui-Gon?" I tentatively said his name.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" his voice was encouraging.

I fidgeted a little before answering, still unsure what to say, "You know how on our next vacation you wanted us to go somewhere where we could just spend time together?"

"Yes," he nodded, waiting for me to continue.

"Well…" I hesitated, but then forced myself to go on, "I know I said I would rather spend time with people my own age, but I was…annoyed with you at the time, and I didn't really mean it. I'm sorry for what I said, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I-I would love to go with you, if you still want to."

The flood of gratitude and forgiveness that swept through our bond washed away my uneasiness. It was amazing how saying those few words made such a big difference. I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and although I still regretted my words, I at least felt better because my Master now knew they hadn't been true.

I smiled at how Qui-Gon's features lit up. It was wonderful to be able to give him some joy, and I truly loved how our relationship had grown, and how he had opened up to me. He had seemed so cold in the beginning, but now everything had changed, and I felt as if he was my best friend, as well as my Master, and the only father I had ever known.

"I would very much like to take you to a rain-forest near the capital city, it's full of many exotic plants and animals that I think you would find very interesting."

Smiling, I sent Qui-Gon my pleasure at this proposal through our bond. "Ah yes, a rainforest – the perfect opportunity to torment your Padawan with more ways to 'connect to the living Force,'" I jibed playfully.

"You read my mind, Padawan, you read my mind," Qui-Gon teased back, but I knew that when we did go on this vacation – and that would be whenever the Council decided we weren't machines and actually needed some rest – we would spend the time relaxing, and deepening our bond.

A peaceable silence fell between us then, and I found myself watching him closely. As always, I marveled at how calm he could be despite the pain I knew he was feeling. I had learned to deal with physical pain much better than when I first became his apprentice, but I still deeply respected the level of my Master's control, and his connection with the Force. Someday I would be as collected as he was, and I knew it would be because of what he had taught me.

"Do you really believe that, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon whispered, opening his eyes as he sat up and turned to face me.

The pain had obviously eased.

Blushing, I lowered my head. No matter how good I got at my shields, he always seemed to know what I was thinking. It was as if my emotions were written on my head in huge neon letters, and all he had to do was read what they said to figure me out.

Qui-Gon slowly sat up and gently played with the end of my braid, twining it around his fingers and smiling at me reassuringly, "It's only because of the bond we share. Other Masters can't do more than vaguely sense your emotions, I assure you."

"Well that's a relief," I answered rather dryly, "I'm glad I'm not just an open book for everyone to read at their whim."

My Master ignored my comment, "Do you truly realize that you are much more skilled than you were giving yourself credit for back on Ceerus?" His gaze was serious, and I could sense how important this was to him, so I prepared to think things through and give him a completely honest answer. 

I thought back to after the bomb had gone off in the hotel, and how I had been criticizing all my actions up until that point. Although I had definitely overreacted then, I couldn't deny that there had been other times when I had felt the same way. I also knew that part of the reason I sometimes felt like that was because of my own nature, and my own desire to be a great Jedi.

"For as long as I can remember," I began softly, seriously, "I've always wanted to do my very best, and be good at everything. Being a Jedi is so important to me, so I've always pushed myself hard so that I'll do well. Even when I excel at something, I keep practicing to get better, because I know that I can always improve. When I became your Padawan, I started working even harder because on top of everything else, I…I wanted to make you proud of me."

"I am proud of you, never doubt that," his voice spoke of his utter sincerity, and his eyes were gentle and reassuring.

Biting my lip, I smiled shyly, "I know, and that means so much to me, but no matter how well I do, and no matter how much I learn, deep inside me I always have this fear that I'm not skilled enough for my age, that I'm not learning your lessons fast enough, and that I make too many mistakes. I also fear that I'll never be as wise and proficient as you are."

I paused to gather my thoughts before going on. "Then there's this other side of me, the more rational side, the side that usually shines through my emotions. The side that knows that I should be happy with the way that I am, because I'm doing well, and I'm young and still learning. Sometimes…" Hesitating, I struggled to put my feelings into words, struggled to explain what my meditation had shown me.

He nodded encouragingly, and I continued. "Sometimes, my over-critical, insecure side is stronger though, and I feel like nothing I do is ever right. It's usually when everything is going wrong and I'm very worried and stressed out because of it. Then it's like all my concerns and anxieties just catch up with me, even if they have nothing to do with the mission."

Qui-Gon sent me a pulse of understanding. "You never had the hero-worship some Padawans have for their Masters, but on some level I think that you see me as much wiser and more in control than I truly am. I, too, have doubts and uncertainties. When confronted with a particularly difficult mission, or when I know I've made mistakes, I wonder whether I have the skills necessary to do the right thing," he squeezed my hand and looked very deeply into my eyes, "You're not alone in feeling that way, but you can't take it to extremes."

I knew what he was referring to when he said 'extremes'. "I understand, Master. The reason I was so worked up after the explosion in the hotel was because I realized how close I had come to losing you, and all that anxiety and fear just came crashing down on me once we got to the hospital and I had time to think about things. I looked back at everything that had happened and all I could see were the times when I ignored the Force and made mistakes because of it. Partly, I blamed myself for what almost happened to you, and thinking that you would have been safer had I only been more skilled made me more critical than usual.

"Since then, I've had time to meditate on my feelings," I blushed, noting the approval that shone in my Master's eyes when I said that, "and how I did on this mission, and I've realized how badly I was overreacting. True, there are times when I ignored my instincts, and there are things I would do different now, but I know that mistakes are part of growing and learning, and that for the most part, I did well."

Actually, I felt kind of proud of the way I had acted. I had, after all, crash landed the shuttle and established that astounding link to the Force. And I had also managed to strengthen the force fields to save us. Not to mention the fact that I had trusted my instincts and found Qui-Gon on the Tarcalian ship. There were a lot of things I could have done better, but overall, I was happy with the way I had handled things and I felt that I had grown a lot during this 'mission.'

My Master smiled, and even though he didn't say so, I knew he was pleased with the way I had thought through my emotions and tried to understand and interpret them. "I'm glad," he whispered earnestly, "because there is a difference between seeing your mistakes, and being overly critical of them. It's important for you to realize that."

"I know," I assured him, even though I also knew that those emotions of insecurity and self-deprecation were hard to control and that I would have to deal with them again, "And I'm sorry for how emotional I got when I was overreacting."

He shook his head, "There is no need to apologize, everyone has their moods…even me."

I grinned, seeing the perfect opportunity to get in some good quality Qui-Gon-teasing. "Really?" I feigned my surprise, "You mean that the Might Master Qui-Gon Jinn isn't always perfectly calm, in control, and in tune with the Force?" I purposefully paused, and then pretended to abruptly remember something, "Oh, that's right, you _were_ completely shell shocked when I cut through the mecosa, weren't you?

"I will neither confirm nor deny what you just said," he with complete seriousness, even though there was a twinkle in his eyes.

"That's as good as a confession!" I shot back, and we both laughed. "Don't think that I'm going to forget how I managed to render you speechless any time soon."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows shot up, and he seemed to remember something. "Oh, Padawan," my Master smiled, tugging on my braid, "Mace Windu spoke with me earlier this morning. The Council would like to hear our report on the 'mission' tomorrow morning, and I think that you should give it."

For half a second I actually thought that I had misheard. Had Qui-Gon just said that _I_ was supposed to give the mission report? Usually, a Padawan wasn't allowed to do that until after they returned from their first solo mission. For my Master to be entrusting me with this before that happened was a great honor, and I quickly went from disbelief to embarrassed, but exuberant joy. 

I suppose I should have felt nervous, but I was too busy being excited and giddy. "Really?" I asked with what must have been a four-year-old's enthusiasm.

Qui-Gon lips twitched up tolerantly, "Yes, Padawan, really. I was, after all, incapacitated most of the time. What do I have to report? You're the one that handled everything, rather well, I might add." He did not attempt to hide his pride in me. 

I felt myself blushing again, realizing that Qui-Gon was letting me do this because he had seen that I had grown and changed, and was allowing for that by giving me more obligations and freedoms. It was flattering that my Master thought so highly of me, and that he thought I was ready for this. The transition from just helping with missions to taking a big enough part in them to actually give the reports was a big one for all Padawans, and it made me even more ecstatic to feel how pleased he was with me.

"Thank you, Master," I smiled shyly, but then couldn't stop myself from adding, "Yeah, I did do pretty good, didn't I?" I was still at the beginning of my journey, but for right now I just wanted enjoy the fact that I was doing so well. Besides, annoying my Master was always fun. 

My Master groaned in exasperation. "Wonderful. You started off being cocky, then eventually you turned to being self-deprecating, and now you're back to being cocky again. I was hoping you'd settle somewhere in-between."

I laughed, then quite spontaneously, threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. I did indeed have a long journey ahead of me, but at Qui-Gon's side, learning and following his teachings, I knew that I would be all right, and that I would bring honor to my training.

My Master's arms began to close around me, but the moment was cut short when I felt him suddenly grow serious, as if this shared moment between us had reminded him of something troubling and saddening. "You don't know how worried I was," he released me and instead drew my hands together and covered them with his own, "You scared me half to death when you refused to leave that Speeder," his voice was uncharacteristically thick with emotion, and I saw him swallow. "You're so young, and it tore my heart out to think you'd die for me."

Leaning back, I was startled into silence at the conflicting emotions I felt in Qui-Gon. Turmoil and remembered fear were clearly evident, reaching past the mask of unreadable features that normally kept them hidden. I could also feel gratitude though, as well as respect and relief.

My throat tightened, and for a moment I forgot to breathe. All of these emotions centered on me. On the Speeder, he had been so scared and devastated that I was going to die. Even though we had both nearly been killed, he was as grateful for my loyalty as I was for his. Then, of course, immense relief that we had survived and…and respect? Perhaps out of all everything, that was the one thing that touched and thrilled me the most. He respected me. For my bravery and for things I couldn't even begin to interpret. I knew that he cared for me. I knew that he considered me to be a very close friend, but respect? I had never even imagined that I had earned such a thing from him, from the man who I admired so much. It made me so…happy to know that, that for a moment my joy washed away my knowledge of Qui-Gon's own tumultuous emotions.

I was completely choked with emotion, but I buried it. Qui-Gon was a very calm person. He wasn't one to be overtly emotional. For me to be able to so clearly read him, it meant his control had seriously slipped. Right now, I needed to be strong for him. Even as I felt myself blushing, I forced myself to snap out of my shocked daze. I could feel his turbulent emotions, and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but I didn't know how. I didn't know what to say or do. Whereas my Master always seemed to have the finesse to know how to soothe me, I was not nearly so skilled in the reverse role.

"You have no idea how helpless I felt, or what a terrible feeling it was to know you were doomed," he added, rubbing my palms with his large thumbs.

I smiled a bit sadly, "Yes, I do. I felt the same way when you told me what you did on the shuttle to save me, and again when you surrendered to the Tarcalians." Not knowing what else to do, I simply began pouring all my comfort and reassurance into our bond, trying to drown away his heavy emotions with waves of light. 

Qui-Gon accepted my help gratefully, and I felt him gradually releasing his emotions until he was one more the epitome of composure, completely in control. When he finally did speak again, his voice was once more steady. However, the fact that it did not ring with overwhelmed emotion did not make it any less heartfelt.

"I know I joked about this before, because I was so relieved that we had made it, but I'm not joking now, Obi-Wan," his tone was dead serious, "Everything worked out this time, but don't you ever try to pull a stunt as reckless as that one again. If it had taken just a handful of seconds longer for you to cut through that mecosa, you would have died. That is not an acceptable risk to save one person. You're life isn't worth giving up for mine."

Frowning, I cocked my head at him, "You've risked your life for me countless times, Qui-Gon," I pointed out, "Some of which involved enough danger that you might have died along with me in your attempt. On this very last mission, you were willing to die by using your Force energy to initiate a healing trance for me. Are you saying I can't do the same for you?"

My Master hesitated, "That's different."

My mouth dropped open and I stared at him in disbelief. "How?" I demanded.

He tightened his grip on my hands, "Because I'm a Jedi Master and I've already gotten to live my dream. You're only eighteen. You have so much more to lose than I do. I've led a good life, Obi-Wan, but you haven't gotten your chance to shine yet. You can't give up your dream of being a Knight just to save me."

Reeling back as if his words had physically hit me, I was too shocked to speak for a moment. Was he actually saying it was all right for him to risk his life to save mine, but not vice versa? Was he actually ordering me not to put myself in excessive danger trying to save him? How could he possibly think that my loyalty was so shallow that I would actually obey such a ridiculous command?

I felt hurt and annoyed. Hurt that he thought I would accept his words, and annoyed that he was suggesting that I should have left him behind on that Speeder, and that in the future, I should just let him die.

When I spoke, I couldn't keep my voice from catching, nor could I hide that I was upset. "I have the same loyalty for you that you have for me," I took a deep breath and forced the words out past the lump that had grown in my throat. "I care for you too much to just watch you die when there's even the slightest possibility, no matter how slim, that I might be able to save you."

Pulling away, I twisted one of my hands away from him and tried leave, but he had a firm grip on my other hand, and refused to let go. Instead he used it tug me back to his side, where I closed my eyes and purposefully did not meet his gaze.

"Obi-Wan, look at me," he ordered softly, while at the same time using our bond to send me his affection, "Please, look at me," he almost pleaded when I did not move to do as he asked.

Sighing, I opened my eyes and met his unreadable gaze. "What?" I flinched at how petulant I sounded.

"Padawan," now he sounded soothing, "I don't doubt your loyalty. How could I? After everything you've risked for me? I'm extremely grateful for your devotion, and your friendship, and I even if I reprimand you for your actions, I could _never_ reprimand your selflessness."

I scoffed. Wasn't that what he had just done? "Didn't you just say that it was way too reckless of me to stay behind on that Speeder to try and save you?"

Now he sighed, looking a bit pained, and I could sense that he truly didn't want to argue with me, or want me to be annoyed with him. "It _was_ reckless, and if we were both dead right now, I'm sure that you would agree." 

I couldn't help but smile very slightly at his words, and as he intended, I felt some of my frustration melt away.

"Even still, I deeply respect your loyalty, Obi-Wan. Please believe that." He reached out to very gently touch my cheek. "It means everything to me."

I could not deny that the words were sincere and completely heartfelt. Nor could I deny that I had felt the same way on the shuttle when I learned of the healing trance. Of course I had been grateful – more than words could ever tell, more than I could ever hope to express – but I had also been horrified that he had almost died because of me. Right now, Qui-Gon was feeling that same way, and I could not stay angry at him when I understood those conflicting emotions all too well.

"I know," was all I murmured.

"As much as I respect and admire your courage, and greatly value your friendship, Obi-Wan…you're too young to throw your life away if ever you should fail to save me when my life is in danger." He was trying to be persuasive, but inside, I sensed that he already knew my answer.

"Master…Qui-Gon," I covered his hand on my cheek with my own, "I care for you too much to _not_ try and save you, even if it puts me in deadly danger, "and nothing you say will change that. Just like," I persisted, "nothing I could ever say would stop you from doing the same for me."

"You teach me things every day, Obi-Wan. You're right, I never should have tried to order you to do something I myself never would," his smile was at the same time regretful and grateful. "You mean everything to me," he said, "but Force, you're as stubborn as I am."

Grinning, I squeezed his hand and said, "Everything I learned about being stubborn, I learned from you. So, if my stubbornness exasperates you as much as your stubbornness exasperates me, you only have yourself to blame."

Instead of returning another joke, he said, "On the contrary, I am quite grateful for your stubbornness in this one particular matter."

My grin turned to a shy smile, "And I am quite grateful for _your_ stubbornness when it comes to this one thing."

We both smiled, accepting that there would indeed be many times when our lives were in danger and one of us was called upon to safe the other, even if doing so would mean great peril. It might have caused us both immense sadness knowing that the other could die in a foolish rescue attempt, but we also felt even greater joy knowing that in the face of whatever opposed us, we would always stand together as true and loyal friends.

THE END


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